Consequences of War
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: Draco is asked to do the unthinkable when the Golden Trio is brought to Malfoy Manor.  Can he handle the consequences of his actions or will he flee like the coward everyone believes him to be?
1. Chapter 1

The credit for this story goes completely to Theroyalhighness supergirl, who offered me her story idea when I was still posting "Blessing in Disguise." I warn you now the first chapter is a bit on the dark side, but I promise it gets brighter!

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><p>Chapter 1<br>"Do it, Draco," Bellatrix Lestrange taunted with a deranged glint in her eye. She had Hermione Granger by her sweat and tear-matted brown hair. Blood dripped from the haphazardly sketched "mudblood" that Bellatrix had so kindly carved into the pale skin of her right arm. The grip on her hair was the only thing that held the young witch upright. "_Do it now_, Draco," Bellatrix shouted, shoving the wounded girl toward the shaking blond boy.

Draco Malfoy caught the whimpering girl, holding her close to support her quivering form. WIth wide gray eyes, he glanced from his psychotic aunt to his desperate to please father. Both seemed to silently urge him to carry out the task they laid before him. Then he looked to his mother, the one person who truly cared for him and his well being. Tears clouded her blue eyes as if she knew this was a fate her only son could not escape.

He began to move, wincing as Hermione whimpered in pain with each step they took. Soon, they retreated to a spare room where they could be alone. Gently, he helped her sit on the floor before taking a seat beside her. Pulling off his blazer, Draco held it to her still bleeding arm in hopes of staunching the flow. "I'm sorry, Granger," he whispered.

"What is it she wants you to do?" Hermione asked, her voice hoarse and raspy from her time spent screaming in pain from Bellatrix's Cruciatus Curse. His silence said it all. Draco averted his gaze, unable to look his former foe in the eye. "You can't do that. Please, Malfoy, please don't do it."

Tears had begun to blur his vision as he dropped the now soiled blazer. He put a few feet of space between them before pulling his knees to his chest to hide his emotions. "They'll know," he muttered. "They'll know if I don't do it, and then they'll kill me. _She'll_ kill me and you and your friends all before You Know Who even gets here."

Struggling to move, Hermione closed a small amount of the distance between them and placed her hand on his arm. "You don't have to do this," she pleaded. "Get Harry and Ron out and we can leave together. The Order can help you, Malfoy."

He laughed a derisive, mirthless chuckle as his eyes fell to the Dark Mark that was covered by his shirt sleeve. "They'd never take me in," he muttered. "Besides, I won't leave my mother here. If anything were to happen to her, I'd-" He shook his head to clear the image of his beloved mother being murdered from his mind. "I'm sorry, Granger. I have to do this."

Her tears began anew as she begged him not to hurt her. Draco, too, allowed his tears to fall; pride be damned. "I'm so sorry, Hermione," he wept as he moved them into position. His hand touched her cheek; a silent plea to look at him. "Are-are you a, um...have you ever done this before?" he asked softly, wiping away her tears with each stroke of his thumb. Hermione shook her head before closing her eyes once more.

Rolling off of her, Draco readjusted his pants and stood. "They're in the cellar," he informed her. "I'll try to help you get them out."

Sitting up, Hermione rebuttoned her jeans and stared at him incredulously. "Will you come with us?" she asked.

Leaning down, he helped her to her feet. When her legs wobbled, he pulled her close, offering her as much support as he could. "I can't," he whispered.

"They'll kill you," she replied, clutching tightly to his black button down shirt. "If you don't do this, you said it yourself, we're all dead."

"I won't do this to you," he replied.

With nervous fingers, Hermione mirrored his action and brushed away his tears. "We have no other choice," she reasoned. "We're not strong enough to fight them. Draco, in order to protect all of us, we have to do this."

When they returned to the drawing room, Draco held a limp and seemingly unconscious Hermione in his arms. "It's done," he told them flatly.

"And? What did you find out?" Bellatrix asked, enthusiastic that her nephew broke the mudblood.

Draco laid her on the floor as gently as possible before crossing to his mother's side. "She knew nothing," he reported. "She knows nothing about the sword of Gryffindor, doesn't know the Order of the Phoenix's plans, and was extremely tight lipped about what she, Potter, and Weasley were doing in the forest. It was a waste of time."

Angrily, Bellatrix, with her dark hair swaying wildly as she moved, approached Draco and slapped him. "We should not have allowed this useless boy to interfere," she said, her eyes dark and intimidating. "Tell me, Draco, were you able to accomplish this task better than you were able to kill that old fool?" she asked, running a black, manicured nail down his pale cheek.

Draco remained stoic. "Take a look at my memories if you'd like," he spat back. And that was exactly what his aunt did. He relived the entire scene in his mind, listened to Hermione scream loudly as he took her virginity. What he blocked from his aunt's view was the way he held her afterwards as they both cried, apologizing profusely, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he cleaned them up. He'd instructed her to pass out once she was in his arms, and together they left the room. He breathed raggedly when the deranged woman left his mind.

"Well, perhaps he's not so useless after all," she commented with a crazed smile.

There was a commotion then as the prisoners appeared with the Malfoys' former house elf, Dobby. Ron Weasley rushed to Hermione's side, hefting her to him as Harry confiscated Draco's wand. Together, the Golden Trio, Luna Lovegood, the goblin Griphook, and Mr. Ollivander disappeared with the help of the small elf.

Draco stared down at the floor where Hermione had laid only seconds before. A hand on his shoulder led the young man from the drawing room, past the room he'd occupied previously, and into an unused study. He was directed to a chair and given a glass of water. When he didn't drink, the hand that led him there raised the glass to his lips and urged him to take a small sip. "Mum," he finally said, his voice so small he sounded like a child. "I'm sorry."

Narcissa Malfoy placed a warm hand on her son's cheek. "What for, my love?" she asked, worry filling her blue eyes.

"I hurt her," he murmured. "I failed you."

Draco closed his eyes when she expressed the desire to see his memories. "You care about her," she deduced, a loving smile on her lips. "This war will be over soon, love. You'll get your moment to make things right with Miss Granger."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
>Weeks after the war ended, Hermione found herself in the waiting room of St. Mungo's with a nasty stomach flu that seemed unwilling to go away. At least, that's what she had believed until she awoke that morning. After the fourth straight morning of illness, Molly Weasley had advised that she see a Healer.<p>

"Miss Granger, we have the results of your test," a kind-faced, matronly woman told her before escorting her back to the examination room.

"What is it?" she asked, noticing the happy smile the mediwitch wore.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger. You're pregnant," she replied cheerfully.

But Hermione saw it as anything but good news. At the time, she hadn't thought herself capable of becoming pregnant. Several months on the run and poor nutrition had all but put an end to her menstrual cycle. She worried how Harry and Ron would take the news. They had never found out what had truly happened to her at Malfoy Manor, and she had intended to keep it that way.

More worrisome than telling her friends was telling Draco. They hadn't seen each other since the battle, and she wondered if he'd gone out of his way to stay away from her once the fighting ended. She had noticed his reluctance to send any curse her way when they fought in the Room of Requirement before Vincent Crabbe set the place on fire. More than that, he hadn't allowed either of his henchmen to harm her either.

She would see him soon. The Death Eater trials would begin in less than a week's time, and the Malfoys were among the first to be tried. When the trial ended and Draco was cleared of all charges, she would tell him the news. She expected nothing of him, sure that he would want nothing to do with his half-blood bastard of a child. But, she reasoned, he had surprised her once with his kindness and desire to do the right thing. Perhaps she would experience that a second time.

She felt a renewed sense of confidence when she left the hospital to return to the Burrow, the family home of the Weasleys. Molly loitered about the kitchen making lunch while her children enjoyed the warm summer day outside. "Harry and Ron around?" she asked, glad that the smell of roasting chicken did not turn her stomach.

"Outside, dear," Molly informed her. "Did everything go well with the Healer?"

Hermione nodded. "Fine," she replied, school her features to give nothing away. She made her way outside to find the two men with whom she had shared most of her life. They lounged by the pond, soaking in the summer sun, when she found then. "We need to talk."

Ron looked up and smiled briefly before noticing the look of abject seriousness written on her face. Both boys stood and followed her inside. None spoke as they climbed the stairs to the topmost floor and entered Ron's bedroom. The walls were still painted a bright orange to match his Chudley Cannons bedspread. The walls were bedecked with posters of his favorite Quidditch players and the floor was littered with dirty clothes. Pushing aside Ron's pajamas, Hermione took a seat on the edge of his bed.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked when she said nothing.

She sat up a bit straighter and cleared her throat. "I'm, um, I'm pregnant," she told them.

Ron's face burned a bright, angry red. "Whose?" he demanded.

Tears burned her eyes. They both seemed to recall the kiss they shared before the battle begun only weeks ago. Hermione had spent years wishing to be on the receiving end of Ron's romantic intentions, but nothing had ever come of it. "Draco Malfoy's," she whispered.

"When did that happen?" Harry inquired, trying his hardest to keep his anger in check.

She had known she would need a cover story. It wouldn't do to tell them about the events at Malfoy Manor. With Draco's trial fast approaching, she would do nothing to hinder his chances of a not guilty verdict. "After the war," she told them. "We found each other outside after the battle ended, and one thing led to another. It was a one time thing, I swear. We were both just so happy to have survived that we weren't thinking clearly."

Ron left, having heard enough, but Harry stayed behind. "I can't believe you would do this to him," he said disappointedly. "Who was it, just last year, crying because he didn't know how you felt about him? I saw how upset you were when he left us. I saw how happy the two of you were when we thought you'd finally gotten together. And then you throw it all away to let Malfoy in your knickers. _Malfoy_, Hermione. The second you tell him about this baby, he'll do whatever he can to prevent it from being born."

"You don't know that," she argued, letting her tears fall. "You don't know him. Since the two of you met, you've wanted to believe so badly that he was evil. Guess what, Harry Potter, you're wrong. He's not the same nasty little boy he was when we were eleven. He's grown up. It's something you might want to try."

Hermione rose from the bed, but Harry was hot on her heels. He caught hold of her wrist before she could leave Ron's bedroom. "Believe what you want about him, but Malfoy will never change," he warned. "Until you sort out your priorities and remember who your real friends are, I suggest you find someplace else to stay."

Pulling her hand out of his grasp, she shook her head sadly. "It'll always be Ron's side that you take," she noted. "I never really was good enough to be your friend, was I. You needed me because I was clever. But when I was of no use to you, I was disposable. Here I thought you and Ron would support me, but I should have known that I would be wrong. You would really cast me out because I made one mistake, Harry? Did seven years mean nothing?"

Sighing, he looked past her to the empty hallway. "Goodbye, Hermione."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
>A nerve wracked Hermione sat impatiently as she awaited the reading of the verdict. Across the court room, Harry and Ron avoided her gaze. It was clear to the young witch that they had shared her news with the rest of the family, as they too refused to glance her way. Narcissa Malfoy was seated just behind her son's defense table, and would occasionally flash her a warm smile before returning her attention to the Wizengamot.<p>

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the interim Minister of Magic, stood and smiled kindly as he delivered the governing body's ruling. "It is the court's decision that the accused, Draco Malfoy, acted under duress. Though he fought alongside the Death Eaters, it is our belief that he did not do so by his own choice. Therefore, the Wizengamot sees it fit to release Draco Malfoy on six months probation."

Draco turned to look incredulously at his mother. He was a free man. Narcissa was the first to greet him as the Wizengamot filed out of the courtroom. Journalists and photographers asked rapid fire questions and snapped photos of mother and son's loving embrace.

It wasn't until the grand room emptied that he noticed Hermione sitting off to the side. Detaching himself from his mother, he moved to stand before her; the banister the only thing separating them. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"It was my pleasure," Hermione replied. "How does it feel to be found innocent?"

Shaking his head, he stepped away from her to climb the stairs that led to the audience seating. He took a seat beside her and replied, "I'll never be innocent. I've hurt people who didn't deserve it. I hurt _you_, Hermione. That's one thing I'll never be able to forgive myself for as long as I live."

"I don't blame you for what happened," she told him. Her eyes were trained straight ahead, but she reached between them to hold his hand. She knew he would run the minute he heard what she had to say. "There's, um...something important's come up. Something that effects the both of us."

"What's wrong?" he asked, examining her hand. It seemed so small compared his own, but he knew the strength it possessed. After all, the same hand had slapped him when they were third years. She whispered so softly that Draco thought she had said nothing. When she repeated herself, a bit louder this time, he sat in shock. "But...we...I," he stuttered.

"I know," she replied, as if being able to read his thoughts. Neither had expected such a consequence to arise, and both knew they were in no place to raise a child together. "Draco, I want you to know that I don't expect anything of you. I just thought you should know."

He dropped her hand and cradled is head between his palms. At eighteen years old, he'd already been a part of a dark army, seen the inside of an Azkaban Prison cell, and forced to commit unspeakable acts. He was supposed to be free now. Guilt for what he'd done to Hermione ate away at him daily. After the trial, he had planned to have the memories removed in order to avoid thinking about it. Now, not only had he raped her, but she was pregnant with his child.

"I can't do this," he mumbled, pushing his fingers through his hair to grip the locks at the back of his head. When he looked at her, tears blurred her image. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I...I can't do this."

He left then, running as fast as he could until Hermione was the only one left in the courtroom. And she truly was alone. Her parents, after she had modified their memories the previous August, had moved to Australia. The Weasleys seemed intent on shunning her. She had expected nothing of Draco, and nothing was what she received. Her tears fell with renewed force as she thought about her lonely existence. In nine months there would be a new life for which she would be solely responsible.

"Miss Granger?" a melodious voice called from the other side of the large room. Hermione's head jerked up right at the sound of her name. Across the courtroom stood Narcissa Malfoy. Worry crossed the older witch's face as she approached the crying teenager. "What's troubling you?" she asked, taking the seat Draco had previously occupied.

Hermione was hesitant to share her secret with a woman she had only met once under less than pleasant circumstances. It was shocking that a woman who seemed so against anyone of less than pureblood status would comfort her. But there she was with her soft, soothing words and her arm around the young woman's shaking shoulders. "That night at the Manor when Bellatrix made Draco-" Hermione started, but couldn't seem to finish. "I'm pregnant."

She expected Narcissa to tense up at the very least, and hex her until she lost the baby at most. Instead, she held Hermione closer. "Are you staying with the Weasleys?" she asked.

Hermione shook her head as she told Narcissa what Harry had said. "I'm staying at my parents' house," she told her. "I sent them to Australia about a year ago, before the war broke out. I planned to find them and bring them home, but I guess that'll have to wait now."

"You shouldn't be alone, not at a time like this," Narcissa said softly. "Draco's not handled things well since he was forced to take the Dark Mark. He bottles up his feelings and emotions, scared to let anyone see that he's vulnerable. He showed that side of himself to you though, dear. Give him time, he'll come around."

Hermione nodded. "I don't know why, but part of me trusts him," she replied.

"Stay with us," the older witch offered. "I hate the idea of the mother of my grandchild being on her own."

"What about Mr. Malfoy?" she asked, sitting up straight.

Narcissa waved her hand to dismiss the thought. "Lucius will be no trouble, I assure you. Please say you'll consider it."

Hermione nodded. It was an offer she didn't want to pass up, but she wondered what it would do to Draco.


	4. Chapter 4

So, I'm without a computer at home because my charger doesn't work. Thank heavens for smart phones. The reason I tell you this is I may have to start posting a teeny bit slower. It really all depends how much work I have to do and how quickly my new charger gets here. Speaking of doing work, I should probably do some. After I hit the Post buttons.

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><p>Chapter 4<br>Hermione looked around the suite Narcissa had set up for her personal use. The bedroom was large enough to fit her old Gryffindor dorm room. To one side was an en suite bathroom with a large bathtub and marble counters. The door to the right of the bathroom led to another room, one Narcissa had intended to decorate as a nursery. As she magicked her clothes from her trunk to the wardrobe, the bedroom door opened and in walked Narcissa. "Finding everything alright?" she asked.

Hermione nodded as she finished with one trunk and moved onto the next. "Fine," she replied. "I haven't seen Draco yet. I was hoping he and I could talk."

With a nervous, hesitant look in her eyes, Narcissa sat on the bed. "He left," she said. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. When I told him we'd offered to take you in, he said...well, he said something strange."

"What was it?" Hermione asked, closing her last trunk.

"He said he needed to prove that he could be the person you need him to be," Narcissa replied, brows furrowed as she once more pondered her son's strange words.

The young witch nodded in understanding. "I've managed to make my peace with this situation. I wish he could too," she said, gently stroking her abdomen. "What's happened isn't his fault. I told him to do it because I thought we had no other choice. He feared that Bellatrix would kill us."

"That was a brave choice you made," Narcissa commented. "Not many people would choose such a thing to save her enemy."

Shaking her head, Hermione rose from the bed to examine a painting on the wall near the bureau. She traced her finger along the stem of a red tulip, admiring the way the multitude of colors all seemed to work well together. "I stopped seeing Draco as the enemy a long time ago," she confessed. She turned to face Narcissa and smiled. "He was a mean little boy, there's no denying that. Harry and Ron always wanted to believe that Draco was out to get us, but I always sort of thought differently. He warned me about the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup, you know? If he were really evil, he wouldn't have done that."

Narcissa rose from the bed and placed a comforting hand on the young witch's shoulder. Before she could speak, they were interrupted by Lucius Malfoy. It was the first time Hermione had seen him since the war. The dark circles beneath his gray eyes were gone and his cheeks had lost their sallow appearance. He seemed much healthier now that he was no longer under Voldemort's thumb. "May I?" he asked his wife. Narcissa seemed to understand what he was asking for she kissed her husband's cheek and left.

"Something I can do for you?" Hermione asked, turning away from the painting.

"I need to apologize to you, Miss Granger," he stated. "My own selfish desires ruined not only my family, but you as well. I've failed them. I could have prevented Draco from doing what he did. I _should_ have prevented it. Maybe then he would still be home and you would be able to go on with your life."

There was sorrow in his eyes, Hermione noted. The cold, superior look he had worn in years past was gone now. Before her now was a man who understood his wrong doings, and seemed intent on making things right. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," she replied softly, taking a seat in the armchair near the bed. "And thank you for letting me stay here. I'm not sure if Narcissa told you, but my parents moved to Australia about a year ago."

Lucius nodded. "She also mentioned the Weasleys would no longer allow you to stay with them. Do they know what my son did?" he asked.

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she shook her head. "To be honest, I was afraid of what Harry and Ron might do if they knew," she admitted. "I don't know what memories Bellatrix saw, but I can promise you, Mr. Malfoy, that Draco didn't hurt me that day."

"I always knew my son would never be a killer, nor did he possess the ability to harm with more than words," Lucius stated. "There was a time I believed that made him weak, but he's a stronger man than I."

Hermione smiled sadly as she thought of Draco, curious as to his current whereabouts. It hurt to think she had driven him away from his life, his home, and his family. "I'm sure he would have appreciated hearing you say that," she responded.

"I hope I have a chance to tell him," Lucius said as a rare smile curved his lips.

Hermione glanced down at her still flat stomach. "I hope so too."

Lucius took his leave, and for the first time since she had arrived, Hermione was alone. With nothing left to unpack, she took to wandering the small wing of the house in which she was staying. Narcissa had mentioned that the east wing belonged to Draco and the library housed his personal collection.

Her room was at the far end of the long hallway, but only two options were presented to her. The double doors were centered on the opposite wall between the two doors. If she moved farther down, the grand staircase would take her to the first floor. Or she could see the room next to her own. If she was correct, that would be Draco's room.

The library would have to wait. She continued down the hall until she reached the door that would most likely take her to Draco's personal sanctuary. The doorknob turned easily, permitting her entrance. The room was spacious with floor to ceiling windows and minimal furniture. The walls were ivory and the carpet a dark blue. The bedspread on his king-sized bed matched the carpet and draperies. A small table and sofa were positioned near the window, mirroring her own room. She settled on the bed, just inches from his pillows. There she found a small white envelope with her named scrawled in a fancy calligraphy. With brows furrowed, she picked it up and opened the flap.

_Dear Hermione, _it read_, As I'm sure you know, I've left. Please know that, one day, I will come back. I need to make myself worthy of someone so good after all the terrible sins I've committed. You said you didn't hold me responsible, but I do. I don't know that I'll ever stop feeling like I've condemned you to such an undeserving life. I cannot yet say when I will return, but know that you and our child occupy my every thought, good and bad. Draco_


	5. Chapter 5

Yesterday when I posted the most recent chapter of _Our Little Corner of the World _(read it!), I asked for gift basket ideas. Today I ask for the worst possible gift idea. See, every year we play Yankee Swap with the whole family. It's a truly horrible game that involves stealing presents from one another, resulting in at least 10 of us angry all through dinner. I hate this game, and therefore want to put in the worst gift that no one would ever want. If you have an idea, I want to hear it!

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><p>Chapter 5<br>Ginny Weasley, on the arm of Harry Potter, strolled through Diagon Alley as the crowds enjoyed the summer weather. Soon students would be returning to Hogwarts, and she would be among them. A frown formed on her lips as they passed Flourish and Blott's bookshop. She and Hermione had made it a tradition to buy their school books together since the summer before she started her second year. Instead, as she entered her seventh year, she had Harry.

"What's wrong?" he asked, giving her hand a squeeze to get her attention.

"Just thinking," she replied with a small shrug of her shoulders. From the corner of her blue eyes, she caught her boyfriend's wary look. "Don't you miss her? I know we hate Malfoy, but we love Hermione. Maybe she knows something we don't. Maybe he's not as bad as we thought."

Harry shook his head, squinting as the sun distorted his vision. "I don't trust him, and I don't believe her story," he replied, glad to now be inside the shop.

"Why's it so hard to believe?" Ginny asked, scanning the spines of potions texts. "I mean, I don't remember seeing her every moment of the battle or after it. It's extremely possible that she and Malfoy sneaked off at some point."

"_I_ was with her the whole time," he retorted. "Besides, the Malfoys ran with their tails between their legs before Voldemort was even dead. You don't honestly believe that Malfoy, the coward that he is, came back. And for what purpose? He and Hermione have always hated each other."

Handing over two books, Ginny tucked her long red hair behind her ears and sighed. "Maybe they don't hate each other. Maybe they never did," she supposed. "What if it was all an act? All these years pretending to hate one another so no one would know that they were together. It's awfully romantic in a forbidden love kind of way."

Harry tucked her books under one arm and used his free hand to push his glasses up his nose. "Brilliant theory, love, but you're forgetting something." Ginny furrowed her brows as she handed him another book. "Malfoy's gone."

He thought he heard his girlfriend gasp in surprise, but could only see the look on her face as the bell above the shop door jingled as someone entered. Before he could see the new patrons, he heard a voice he knew he could never forget.

Hermione.

She wasn't alone, and he could hear her tinkling laugh as she neared. She had filled out over the months, her abdomen now sporting a small, rounded bump. Her brown eyes were alight with mirth and she smiled happily at her companion. It was then Harry noticed she had arrived with Narcissa Malfoy. The last time he had seen her she stood over his body and pronounced him dead. The older witch seemed different now; more alive and her blues eyes were more vibrant.

Then the laughter stopped. Hermione and Harry locked eyes, but neither spoke. He scowled when Narcissa gently placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder, and his frown deepened when Hermione placed a hand on her swollen stomach. "Keeping it then, are you?" Harry inquired.

"You honestly think I'd get rid of my baby?" she asked.

"I honestly don't know what to think of you anymore, Hermione," he admitted. "I mean, before this I never would have thought of you as someone who lies to her best friends and sleeps around. I thought you were loyal and that you loved us, that you loved Ron."

"I do love you both," she replied, defensive and hurt by his accusations. She stepped away from Narcissa and moved closer to Harry. "Not in a million years did I think this would happen, Harry. Draco and I did what we did, and I can accept the consequences. I understand that you and Ron are upset, but there's no way I can undo this. I just hope that one day you'll come around."

Harry took a step back. "I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," he retorted, turning on his heel to leave.

Only then did Hermione notice Ginny watching her with sad eyes. The younger witch smiled hesitantly at her friend. "I believe you, Mione," she said.

Hermione was shocked to hear the younger girl say that. The Weasleys were fiercely loyal to their own, and Harry had long ago been accepted as a part of the family. In the three months since she had left the Burrow for Malfoy Manor, not one member of the family had even attempted to contact her. "What did Harry and Ron tell the family?" she wondered, glancing briefly at Narcissa who stood behind her protectively.

Ginny shrugged and tucked her hair behind her ears. "That Malf...Draco got you pregnant sometime after the battle," she replied. "Harry said you didn't tell him much else besides that. Why doesn't he believe it though?"

Because it's not the truth, Hermione thought. Instead, she shook her head sadly. "I don't know."

Ginny stepped closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Are you okay there? I mean, you're not sleeping in the dungeons or something, are you?" she asked, casting a worried look at her friend.

Smiling, Hermione shook her head. "They've been great," she replied. "Lucius actually smiled when he saw the ultrasound photo."

"I'm glad," Ginny replied, placing a hand on her upper arm. "It was good to see you, Hermione."

She turned to walk away, hoping to find Harry, when Hermione stopped her. "You could, um, if you wanted to, come by the Manor some time," she offered. "It would be nice to have an old friend around."

With a nod of her head, Ginny promised to owl soon. Hermione watched her go, and with her, the sense of longing grew inside the pregnant witch. Narcissa was soon by her side, an arm around her shoulders. "That was a nice thing you did," she commented as they moved further into the shop.

"Harry hates Draco enough as it is. I don't want to give him any more reasons," Hermione stated, though she sounded defeated.

Shaking her head, Narcissa smiled. "I meant inviting Miss Weasley to the Manor," she replied. "It'll be good for you to have a friend around. We worry that with only us for company you'll go mad."

"I really do appreciate everything you've done for me," Hermione said, hoping her smile looked less forced. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't taken me in. May I ask you something?"

"Anything," Narcissa told her, picking up a book from the nearest display table.

"Do you think Draco's ever coming back?"


	6. Chapter 6

Who's ready for the holidays? My answer would be not me. I've baked (Grandma's super secret cookie recipe that about 10 of my friends have), bought most of my gifts, decorated the tree. I'm thinking of going my little brother's route with the gift wrapping - leave it in the package/bag it came in and stick a bow on it. It's funny when he does it, but I'm not sure I'll be able to get away with it.

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><p>Chapter 6<br>Letters sat before her, the seal unbroken. Narcissa stared sadly at her own handwriting. For weeks, she had written her son, but each letter came back unopened. It was more than just concern for her only child, who had told her nothing of his whereabouts. Hermione had spent days holed up in the Malfoy family library reading any book that appealed to her. The young witch took her meals in her room, and preferred to keep her distance from the family as much as possible.

"We'll have to purchase some new books soon," Lucius commented as he entered his wife's suite. "That girl reads voraciously. You would think we put her on some kind of time restriction, she reads so quickly."

Pushing aside the unopened letters, Narcissa turned to her husband and frowned. "She asks about him," she said. "Well, on the rare occasion that she actually speaks. The few times she's escorted me to Diagon Alley, she's sulked until we reach the bookshop. At first I thought it was because of me."

"But now you think it's Draco?" Lucius wondered. Narcissa nodded and looked back at the envelopes on the table. "I take it you've not heard from him either. I'd never have expected this of him. To just run like a coward-"

"Perhaps if you had put to a stop to things before either of the children got hurt," Narcissa interrupted, "he wouldn't have left. Can't you understand how guilty he feels?"

"And you think I don't shoulder some of that guilt?" he inquired, getting to his feet. "I can't look at that girl without thinking that I caused this. She told me that she had hoped to return to school, to travel. And because I did nothing, stood by while my son was forced to rape her in hopes of garnering the smallest bit of information, I've ruined their lives."

Sighing, Narcissa rose from her writing desk and stood before her husband. He wound his arms around her waist and held her close as they stood in contemplative silence. It was admirable really how easily Hermione seemed to forgive the family, putting their past to rest and looking toward the future. "It must be terribly scary," she murmured softly. "She's so young, and yet she's been through so much. She planned to do this alone, Lucius. I remember being so afraid when I was pregnant with Draco, but at least I had you."

"She's not alone now," he assured her.

"I should check on her," Narcissa said with a sigh as she pulled out of her husband's embrace. Exiting her suite, she turned for the east wing and Draco's library. A book was spread across the young girl's lap but her focus was anywhere but on the words. She stared at the large tree outside the floor to ceiling window before her. Cautiously, Narcissa approached so as not to startle her. "Sickle for your thoughts, dear," she murmured, taking the seat beside her.

With wide eyes, Hermione turned her attention to the regal witch now occupying the sofa with her. She blinked twice to refocus her eyes and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," Hermione replied.

Narcissa dismissed her apology with a smile and wave of her hand. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "You've seemed so distant lately."

Closing the book, Hermione put it aside on the table next to the sofa. With a shrug of her shoulders, she turned her head to stare out the window once more. "I've been having dreams lately," she confessed. "About Draco."

The most recent dream had shaken the witch to her core. In it, she had been awoken by the cries of her child, a child she hadn't remembered birthing. When she entered the dark nursery, decorated in pinks and yellows, Draco stood over the crib in which her baby lay. He was bent so that his top half disappeared into the cradle as he lifted the crying baby from her bed.

"I can't believe you went through with it," he sneered viciously, turning to face Hermione for the first time. His once gray eyes shone red in the darkness of night, sending a chill through Hermione. The baby cried louder as she desperately attempted to vacate the arms of this stranger.

"What are you talking about, Draco?" Hermione asked, taking hesitant steps closer to him and her daughter. "Please, put her down."

He glanced down at the baby in his arms, no more than a few months old, and stroked her fine blonde hair. "You've tarnished the Malfoy lines, Mudblood. This thing does not deserve to live."

"Draco, please," she begged, reaching out for the child now that she stood close enough.

His expression, if possible, turned angrier. "You dare use my name?" he bellowed. "Would you speak the Dark Lord's name in his presence?"

Again, she reached for the howling baby. "You're not him. You're not evil," she said calmly, though her heart raced frantically. "Please don't hurt her."

"I'm just as evil, if not worse," he replied, a small slip of regret in his voice. Without giving her the opportunity to refute his words, he turned and disappeared with their child still in his arms.

Hermione awoke to the darkness just as she had in her dream. A cold sweat had broken out across her brow as tears unabashedly slid down her cheeks. She had thrown back the blankets and hastily entered the nursery, still with white walls and hardwood floors. There was no furniture, no decoration yet. Most of all, there was no baby to occupy the room. Taking a seat on the padded bench, Hermione leaned her warm head against the cool glass. She fell asleep there, rising only with the sun.

"It was only a dream, darling," Narcissa said when she finished her tale.

Nodding, Hermione glanced at the woman beside her; a woman she had once thought cold and unfeeling. There was a time she had believed the Malfoys had to be unloving parents for Draco to have turned out the way he did. The first time she ever saw Narcissa Malfoy up close had been the day she, Harry, and Ron were taken to Malfoy Manor by Snatchers. The woman had cried silent tears as Hermione was tortured by her sister's wand. Draco had held so tightly to his mother when Bellatrix ordered him to perform his task. There was love between mother and son, a love she now extended to her child's former enemy.

"Sometimes the dreams seem nice," Hermione said, thinking of the others she had had. "I've had a few of him on a beach on a bright, sunny day. His nose is red and peeling and burnt, but he's smiling. Other times, he's holding the baby, promising to love it forever. I like those dreams the best."

"He'll come back," Narcissa promised.

Looking once more to the tree outside, Hermione replied, "I hope you're right."


	7. Chapter 7

This will be the last chapter I post before the holidays. I'm on a staycation next week, so hopefully the writer's block I usually experience at home won't hit. Enjoy your holidays, be safe, eat a lot, and have fun!

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><p>Chapter 7<br>The sun shone brightly overhead as Draco walked along the beach. His nose and cheeks were red from the heat, and sand took up permanent residence inside his shoes. Gray eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, scanned the beach for a familiar face. All around, people sunbathed and children built sandcastles while others splashed around in the surf. Ahead, he spotted a tall man with olive skin and dark hair. He attempted to run to meet up with his friend, but the sand slowed him down.

"Anything?" Draco asked when the two men met.

"Nothing, mate," he replied.

Draco cursed under his breath and turned to look behind him, hoping to find what he was looking for. "We'll never find them, Blaise," he muttered.

"Are you ever planning to tell me who it is we're looking for?" Blaise inquired, using his hand as a visor to shield his eyes from the sun.

Shaking his head, Draco began walking. "Not yet."

Hermione awoke suddenly. Pushing back the blankets, she climbed out of bed and exited her room. Quickly, she walked down the hall and took the stairs to the first floor. Narcissa was seated at the table for breakfast when she entered the dining room. Hermione took a seat across from the Malfoy matriarch who read the paper while stirring her tea.

"Do you believe in premonitions?" Hermione asked.

Setting aside the paper, Narcissa put her spoon on the saucer and furrowed her brows. "Premonitions of what?" she wondered.

Before continuing, she glanced towards the door to make sure they would not be interrupted. "These dreams I've been having about Draco," she replied. "Do you think they could be premonitions?"

Narcissa did little to hide her shock. She had thought Hermione to be logical; not the type to believe in folly like Divination. "You honestly believe that dream you had about him trying to abscond with the baby in the middle of the night could come true?" she inquired.

The young witch shook her head. "Not after that night," she replied. "I don't think he would hurt the baby. But there've been other dreams. The dreams on the beach, for instance." She told Narcissa about the latest dream that featured Blaise Zabini.

"But you don't know where they are or what they're looking for," Narcissa pointed out.

"Not _what_. _Who_," she stated with a smile as breakfast appeared before her.

A deep voice rumbled from the doorway. "And just who might my son be searching for on a sandy beach?" Lucius inquired, joining the women.

Hermione looked down at her eggs as a blush warmed her cheeks. "I don't exactly know," she replied.

"Perhaps your parents," Narcissa suggested. Both Hermione and Lucius glanced at her dubiously. "You mentioned them being in Australia. In your dream, that's where Draco could have been."

"You mean to say you _dreamt_ about him? You don't actually know where he is?" Lucius questioned, and in his distraction poured more salt than necessary on his eggs.

The look Narcissa wore told her husband to keep quiet, and so he did. With her attention returning to Hermione, a smile lit her face as a thought occurred. "I know someone who could give us a little more insight into these dreams of yours," she shared. "She'll be here for tea this afternoon, if you'll join me."

As much as she wanted to say no to tea, Hermione found herself halfheartedly agreeing to meet with Narcissa's friend. It was unclear how many knew of her situation, but soon far more would know. Perhaps starting small (and finding a solution to her dreams) would bode well. "Around noon?" she asked, pushing away her plate as he appetite seemed to disappeared. Though the beautiful witch across from her frowned as she glanced at the half eaten breakfast, she nodded.

Two hours later, Hermione was seated across from Narcissa and the newly arrived Pansy Parkinson. She had come in her mother's place when a last minute emergency arose. The smug, pug-faced girl with long, dark hair had yet to look her way; opting instead to focus solely on the Malfoy matriarch. It wasn't until Narcissa excused herself that the two young women spoke.

"Whose is it?" Pansy asked, setting the fine china aside. "My guess would be Potter or Weasley, but that wouldn't explain why you're staying here. You're not Lucius Malfoy's mistress, are you?"

Hermione, mid sip, choked on her tea, which led to a coughing fit. Her face was warm and tears dampened the corners of her eyes. "You're joking, right?" she asked when she could once again speak.

Pansy quirked an eyebrow in an attempt to make her thoughts seem more mysterious. "It's Draco's, isn't it," she said, her voice giving away no emotion. A small nod was all the confirmation Hermione gave. "I'm sure I'll regret asking this, but how did that even happen?"

A small smile cracked on the pregnant witch's face. "Well, Pansy, when a man and a woman love each other very much-"

"Come off it," Pansy interrupted. "We both know you don't love Draco. So, I mean...there have been rumors about why Draco left. Theo and I were talking just the other day, and he said that his father mentioned that Vole...You Know Who made him do it. If it's true then...well, I'm sorry, Granger. For the both of you."

Taken aback by her apology, Hermione managed only a weak nod. "So, um, about the dreams," she said, taking a sip of tea, "is it you who knows about them, or your mum?"

"She knows more, but I've picked up a few things about it over the years," Pansy replied proudly, seemingly happy to have a change of subject. "It's believed that the dreams of the magical can be more than just a simple dream. Demigods, witches, wizards have all been known to divine through their dreams. Sometimes we can communicate with others, other times we can see someone else's present, and sometimes we get glimpses of the future. Mrs. Malfoy mentioned to my mother that you've been dreaming about Draco."

Hermione nodded and gave her abridged versions of the last few dreams she had had. "Narcissa believes he's looking for my parents," she finished. "That perhaps if he finds them he'll redeem himself."

"They could just be dreams," the other girl insisted, now worried about Draco after hearing Hermione's recap of the red eyed dream.

"But you don't believe they are," Hermione retorted, leaning forward. "You've known Draco longer and better than I do. Would he ever do something like this? Going to Australia to find my parents, I mean."

Pansy shook her head and shifted in her seat. "No, he wouldn't," she replied. "Draco's not what anyone would classify as selfless."

"Then maybe it's all just a dream," Hermione said dejectedly. "He has been on my mind a lot lately. It's only a few more months until the baby is here."

She glanced nervously at her former enemy, but Pansy attempted to smile. "Yes, all just a dream," she said unconvincingly.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
>"Four months to go," Narcissa chattered enthusiastically as she and Hermione exited St. Mungo's. "Oh, there's so much to do in so little time. The nursery needs finishing and you've got those classes. And I can't quite decide what I want to be called. Grandmother sounds so stodgy, don't you think?"<p>

Hermione laughed easily at Narcissa's mile-a-minute way of talking when she was excited. Friendship had come easily between the matriarch of one of the wizarding world's staunchest believers in pureblood ideology and the young muggleborn witch who carried her grandchild. Lucius had even warmed to her as the months passed. She recalled a night only weeks prior when he had found her in the library asleep on the window seat. She had awoken in her bed when the sun came up, and he had casually mentioned putting her there for her comfort.

"I've been thinking about colors," Narcissa continued, interrupting her thoughts. "I do wish you would find out the gender."

"It's a girl," Hermione stated definitively. "I like yellow."

"Yellow would be lovely," Narcissa agreed, deciding not to ask how she knew. "Perhaps, just a spot of pink?"

Cocking her head to the side, Hermione pictured the nursery from her dream. "I'd like that," she decided. "Yellow and pink with a light wood crib, and a mobile with dancing flowers to spin above it."

"It sounds lovely," Narcissa agreed, winding her arm around the young woman's shoulders as they strolled through Diagon Alley. They spent the better part of the morning shopping until Hermione's stomach growled loudly. As they made their way to a small cafe, Hermione stopped. "What is it? Is something wrong?" she asked.

Hermione couldn't be sure that something was wrong, but she knew that if Ron Weasley had spotted her as well, the day might take a turn for the worse. But then he turned, and hurt blue eyes locked with remorseful brown. As he began to approach, Hermione turned to Narcissa and said, "I need to do this. Maybe if he understands-"

"Do what you have to do, sweetheart," Narcissa replied, entering the cafe to give the pair their privacy.

Ron approached nervously, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He offered a small smile; a sign that he came in peace. His greeting was awkward and unsure, but the smallest of touches from Hermione calmed his nerves slightly. "I, uh, saw you from the Quidditch shop," he said, blushing as he averted his gaze. "You look good. Round...in a good way."

"Thanks. I think," she replied, leading them to the bench outside the cafe. "I don't think Harry would approve of this."

Ron shrugged and looked down the Alley. "I don't much care," he stated. "I mean, I'm not okay with you and Malfoy...ya know. Look, Ginny told me what Harry said, and I reckon he was out of line. I know you loved me, but maybe Malfoy's who you're supposed to be with."

It broke her heart to hear the sadness in Ron's voice. She too had believed they would be together once things in their world settled down. Little in her life seemed to work out according to plan. "Ron, I'm sorry for what's happened," she said, doing her best to hold back tears.

"I'm sorry we abandoned you," he replied. "I can talk to Mum, maybe convince her to let you come stay with us again. It's not the same without you."

Turning her head, Hermione could see Narcissa seated near the front windows of the cafe. Her back was to the young witch, but occasionally she would look behind her to make sure Hermione was alright. She offered sympathetic smiles and looks that implied she would be by her side as soon as she was called. "I can't do that," Hermione said. "The Malfoys have been so good to me. They didn't have to take me in. They could have turned their backs on me, on the baby. With Draco and my parents not around, they're the only family the baby will have when it comes."

"It'll have us too," he promised, taking her hand. After giving it a quick squeeze, he let go and stood. "I better get going. Mum'll have lunch on soon."

"I miss Sunday lunches," she replied wistfully as she hugged him goodbye.

"We'll see you soon," Ron promised, smiling kindly before walking away.

When he disappeared around the corner, Hermione turned and entered the cafe to join Narcissa. "Everything's fine," she said as she sat down, noting the concerned look the blonde wore. She shared with her all that Ron had said, and waited for some kind of response. Narcissa sipped her water slowly then turned to her menu. The silence between the women was deafening, and Hermione could feel the heat rising inside of her. "Please say something," she finally pleaded.

Closing the menu, Narcissa placed it beside her bread plate. "Draco often alluded to a relationship between you and Mr. Weasley," she commented. "Will that continue should you decide to rejoin them?"

Hermione was taken aback by the cool, detached demeanor of the woman across from her. Though Ron had suggested a return to the Weasley family, Hermione had given it no thought. The Malfoys had taken her in when her friends had turned their backs on her, and loyalty was a quality she held in high esteem. "I hadn't planned to go back," she replied, resting a hand on her stomach. "Molly has often made it clear that I should only be with Ronald, and after what's happened with Draco I don't think she'd welcome me back with much enthusiasm. I won't raise my baby around people who think I'm some scarlet woman. I want her to have a family."

Reaching across the table, Narcissa offered her hand. When Hermione took it, she received a reassuring squeeze as the older witch smiled warmly. "My sister, Andromeda, just before she ran away to be with the love of her life, told me that the one thing she regretted was that her children would grow up without a family," she shared. "Her daughter never knew her grandparents, aunts and uncles, or cousin. Perhaps Nymphadora was better off for it. My mother and father would have never approved of her. But this baby, and you, are loved. The both of you have a family with Lucius and myself, and when Draco returns she'll have a wonderful father."

And Hermione was hopeful that what she spoke was true.


	9. Chapter 9

So, I've been playing around with names for the baby (Draco and Hermione's, not my imaginary baby) and can't come up with anything I like. I want something somewhat original, but has a meaning that applies to the story. So here is what I ask of you, dear readers - in your review tell me a name you like and its meaning. There should be a prize involved. Perhaps a sneak peek of the chapter when she's born?

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><p>Chapter 9<br>The heavy clatter of falling wood startled Hermione awake. As she pulled on her robe and armed herself with her wand, she took slow, measured steps towards the nursery and the source of the noise. She carefully pushed open the door, fearful of the old hinges' squeak. There, on the floor, sat a flummoxed Lucius. "What are you doing?" she asked, trying her hardest to suppress her laughter.

Around him, several pieces of the baby's crib were scattered. "I told Narcissa we should hire someone to do this," he grumbled, staring at a small pile of silver bolts. "She was fine with it when we had Draco, but now she's gotten it into her head that we, or rather I, should be doing this. Ridiculous, if you ask me."

"You could use magic," she offered, chuckling a bit as the realization dawned on the proud pureblood. "Honestly, Mr. Malfoy, you don't have to do this for me. A few swishes and flicks, and I can have it done all on my own."

Getting to his feet, Lucius took her hands in only one of his own. "My name is Lucius," he stated with a soft drawl. "If there is one thing I may ask of you, it's that you call me Lucius."

Hermione blushed under the intensity of his paternal gaze. Months of living at Malfoy Manor had conditioned her to no longer fear the head of the Malfoy family. The Lucius Malfoy she had met as a child was no longer the man standing before her, holding her hands. His tutelage under Voldemort and time spent in Azkaban Prison had changed him for the better. Gone was the cold sneer, and in its place a genuine smile as he gazed fondly upon the woman who carried his first grandchild. Hermione found that she liked this Lucius and was glad for the blessing of being received so warmly into his home.

With his free hand, he removed his wand from the inner pocket of his robes. Two swishes and a flick later, the crib was built. He turned hopeful, gray eyes to the smiling young witch, awaiting her appraisal. "It's perfect," she murmured.

The smile he reciprocated fell when he noticed the sudden change in her once happy mood. "What is it?" he asked, letting go of one of her hands to give the other a squeeze.

"I just...I was wondering if," she stuttered. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she continued, "If this had happened because Draco and I had both consented to it, would you have supported it?"

He let go of her hand then to study the crib he'd just assembled. "I've lost many things because of the war," he replied steadily, "but I never thought my son would be among them. There was a time when I could hurt people and not give it a second thought. My actions forced my son to become the man I myself hated being. I taught him bigotry and malice. He was eleven the first time I used the Cruciatus curse on him because his grades were second to yours.

"I'd like to believe that eventually Draco would have come to see that my teachings were incorrect," he continued. "I fear that his feelings for you might not have ever changed because he was afraid of me. Fear conceived this child, but I know she will know nothing but love. To answer your question, yes, I believe I would have supported it."

With tears in her eyes, Hermione rounded the crib to join Lucius. With only a small flicker of hesitation, she soon wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. He returned her show of affection, holding her until he felt a flutter between them. Pulling back, he furrowed his brows, silently asking what had happened.

"She's been kicking a lot lately," Hermione explained, tracing the path of her baby's foot across her abdomen. The smile she wore dissolved into a sad frown. Lucius placed a hand on her shoulder, silently asking her what was wrong. With a sigh, she turned her head to look away from him. "Is it silly that I wish Draco were here for this? After all, we spent years hating one another. It's just, after that night, I thought he might be different."

"He is different," Lucius replied emphatically. "Nothing about him is the same as it was during your school days. I saw how gentle he was with you that night. Narcissa told me that he showed her his memory. I dare say he cares for you more than you know."

"Then why isn't he here?" she demanded angrily. "If he cares about me, why did he leave? All he's proven by leaving is that he _doesn't_ care."

As hot, angry tears slipped past the lower rim of her eyes, Lucius quickly embraced her, holding her close until she exhausted her emotions. He heard her mumbled apologies, but he quickly silenced her. "What could you possibly have to be sorry for?" he wondered. "All you've done is apologize."

"If I hadn't," she sniffled, "told Draco, he'd still be here. I wouldn't have torn your family apart."

Again he shushed her and attempted to dry the tears on her cheeks with the back of his fingers. "Never, in all my years, have I heard such rubbish," he stated good-humoredly. "_You_ are not the reason he left. Draco has seen many a terrible things transpire here. I believe he still would have left had you not come here."

Pulling away, she sat down in the rocking chair near the crib. Narcissa had found it amongst the forgotten furniture in Draco's nursery and had it restored to its former glory. With tears in her eyes, she had told Hermione about the many sleepless nights she and a newborn Draco had spent in that chair. Until he was five years old, she spent every night with her little boy seated in her lap as she read him bedtime stories and sing him to sleep. Then, he declared himself too old for such activities and demanded the chair's removal. Now seated there, she wondered at what age her daughter would put an end to its use.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a gentle hand cupping her cheek. "He'll come home," Lucius assured her. "Why, in his le-" Cursing under his breath, his stopped himself from saying too much.

"His what?" she inquired.

Lucius again cursed himself for the slip of his tongue. Sighing defeatedly, he finished, "His letters."

Hermione was quick getting to her feet despite her size. "I want to see them," she demanded. His nod was unsure, but he left the nursery to procure his son's correspondence.


	10. Chapter 10

I want to say a big thank you to everyone who's submitted baby names for me. There are still a couple of chapters to be written before the baby is born, so if you still want to make any suggestions, you can.

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><p>Chapter 10<br>_Please, Father, let Hermione know that she and our child occupy my every thought, she read. Let her know that hers is the face I see in my dreams, and I strive to make things right between us. I have to do this if I'm to find any semblance of forgiveness, not from Hermione but myself._

Hermione let the letter fall onto the bedspread and leaned back against the plush pillows. There weren't many letters, four at the most, and all brief. But she couldn't stop reading them. Picking up another letter, she began to read again.

_I know this must sound crazy, but in my dreams I see her, our daughter. She looks like her mother - soft brown eyes, wild curls, a small nose, and pouty lips. She has my eyes though. Sometimes I dream that she's older - taking her first steps, learning to say Daddy, and then she's off to Hogwarts. I hope to be back before she's born._

Tears blurred her vision as she read his letters, discovering the love he felt for his unborn daughter. He would come home, he promised. In a little more than three months, their child would be here, and so would Draco. It brought a smile to her face. Though she didn't love him, she knew he belonged there with his family and his baby.

The owl pecked impatiently against the window pane until Lucius set aside his paper and let the demanding creature inside. The bird had come before, though infrequently as the months passed since Draco's departure. Taking the letter from the proffered claw of the owl's right foot, he shooed the bird away before reading this latest correspondence. Draco usually started with some type of salutation, but skipped it this time.

_I'm no closer now than when we arrived, he wrote. Sometimes I feel like a fool for even attempting this, but I feel like I have to do it. I've hurt so many people, or watched others hurt them. I want to help now. I can't help but feel like I'm doing nothing though._

_Last night I dreamt about her again, the baby. She's two years old and I'm meeting her for the first time. She has a twinkle in her eye, as if she knows who I am. But each time I come near, or try to hold her, or smile at her, she starts to cry. I worry that my child won't know me, which makes me even more anxious to complete this task I've set for myself._

Lucius put the letter aside. He understood his son's fears, and wondered if he could recall that far back in his own childhood to when Lucius was not around. The last thing the Dark Lord cared about was the young son he had at home. And so, he had been called away frequently, going months without seeing his wife and child. Even after he had been vanquished just months after Draco's first birthday, Lucius made his resurrection a priority. When Draco learned to talk, he was able to identify a variety of things - Mama, juice, elf, bed - but it was a long time before he learned Daddy. It was then his desire to serve the Dark Lord waned in favor of family.

Exiting his study, he planned to show Hermione the letter. Narcissa, it seemed, had other ideas. As she descended the staircase from the second floor, arms crossed over her chest, she levelled her husband with an icy glare. "How long did you plan to keep them from me?" she inquired. There was no excuse he could give that Narcissa would not see through. Instead he remained silent as she continued her rant. "He's my only son. I've spent months writing to him, and got nothing in return but unopened envelopes. And yet, all this time, you have been corresponding with him. And how do I find out, Lucius? I go in to check on Hermione and find her asleep amidst his letters."

"I hadn't planned on telling her about them either," he admitted.

"And why not?" she demanded. "He's my son. I had a right to know how he was doing. He's the father of her baby. She has the right to know if he'll ever come home. Why would you keep this from us?"

Sighing, he leaned against the banister as he tried to formulate his reasoning. It had seemed, after the first letter, like a good idea to not share it with the two women. He hadn't known then that his correspondence with Draco would continue, and hadn't wanted to get their hopes up that more would come. But then they had. Not many, but certainly a letter for each month Draco had been gone. Perhaps a part of him, knowing that Draco had not answered Hermione's and Narcissa's letters, coveted this new bond with his son. For a long time, their relationship had been built on fear, and it occurred to him then that perhaps fear was what made his son respond.

"I thought," he finally said, sighing deeply, "that you might be upset. I realize now that not telling you hurt more."

"Damn right it did," she muttered with an uncharacteristic display of anger. "She was crying, you know. Even in her sleep, she was crying."

Lucius hadn't expected Hermione's response to be so emotional. "Do you think she loves him?" he wondered.

Narcissa turned, ready to go upstairs, but waited for her husband to join her. When they met on the same step, Lucius crooked his elbow and pulled her hand through it. "It's hard to say," she replied when they began to climb the stairs together. "I think she's afraid, and hoped he would be here to go through all of this with her. With her friends abandoning her, I think she's lonely."

"She has us," Lucius interrupted.

With a smile that said "you're a man, you know nothing about this," Narcissa patted his hand. "We're not the same," she stated. "We're not her age. She's only really known us a few months. Even though she and Draco were never friends, they at least knew things about the other. They've both seen how the other has changed, and deep down, I'm sure she knows how much he cares about her. I think, in time, she could love him."

"And Draco?"

Narcissa's smile grew as they reached their bedroom. "I'm fairly certain he's closer than she is."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
>It was Christmas. Hours had turned to days, days to weeks, weeks to months as Hermione awaited the baby's arrival. Three weeks, she told herself. In three weeks, the baby would come. In his letters, Draco had promised to be home by the time she was born. The letters had stopped coming a month earlier. She hoped that was a good sign; one that meant his return was imminent.<p>

"Help me put the finishing touches on the tree," Narcissa suggested, snapping the young witch from her thoughts. She placed a small box in Hermione's hands and began pulling out small, crystalline ornaments that caught the sunlight as it filtered into the foyer. She merely stood in place as Narcissa strategically placed each figurine on the branches. When her legs grew tired and her back hurt from standing too long, Narcissa conjured a chair and continued her work. As she levitated the star to the top of the tree, Narcissa asked, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine. Why?" Hermione wondered, toying with the last ornament in the box. It was a broken, ceramic star with two points missing and chunks of glitter that littered the box. She wondered if Draco had made it when he was younger.

"You've been so quiet lately, and a bit pale," Narcissa observed. "I just worry about you becoming ill so close to your due date."

"I'm fine," she said again, this time with a dismissive wave of her hand for emphasis. "Just a bit uncomfortable. I'm sure you felt that way, too, during your last few weeks."

Narcissa smiled fondly as she recalled her own pregnancy. It had been a difficult one after five years of unsuccessful attempts. After her fourth month, she had been restricted to bed rest, made, which was made more complicated by her husband's frequent absences. But the birth of her son more than made up for the hardships she'd faced during the nine months. "I did," she agreed, "but it was worth it. The first time you hold your baby, you seem to forget everything you've just gone through. All you can think about, all you can focus on is that little baby in your arms."

Hermione looked down at her stomach, trying to imagine what her daughter would look like. In her dreams, she had seen a little girl with dark blonde curls and bright gray eyes. She had her mother's upturned nose and round cheeks with a small, pointed chin similar to Draco. "Were you ever afraid that you couldn't do it?" she wondered. "Be a mother, I mean."

"All the time," Narcissa confessed. "Lucius would chide me all the time for coddling Draco. I often worried that perhaps too much affection might ruin him. I loved to hold him and rock him to sleep. I loved when he called me Mummy or told me I was pretty. In the mornings, after Lucius had left for work, Draco would climb into bed and cuddle with me.

"It wasn't until he grew older that he decided to emulate his father," she continued. "That's when he began to sneer rather than smile. And, oh, what a beautiful smile Draco had. I often worried that perhaps Lucius was right; perhaps I had been overbearing and my son was tired of me. It was the first time I honestly thought I was a bad mother."

"I often wondered what you were like," Hermione admitted. Narcissa conjured a chair for herself and sat down beside her. "I thought he must have the most uncaring parents for him to have turned out the way he did. I had met Lucius a few times, and really understood where Draco got it from. But then, that day we were captured and brought here, I could tell how much you cared for him. And I could see how much he loved you."

Gingerly, Narcissa kissed Hermione's forehead as she rose from her seat. "You will be a wonderful mother to this little girl," she assured her. "She's lucky to have you."

With a helping hand from the older witch, Hermione got to her feet. "She'll have you too," she replied with a smile. "When I found out that I was pregnant, I thought Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would fill the grandparent role. I never thought you and Lucius would want to be so involved. I'm really glad you are though."

"We are too," Narcissa replied, leading her to the staircase. "Why don't you go have a lie down for a bit? I'll call for you when supper is ready." Nodding, Hermione slowly climbed the stairs until she reached the second floor and turned towards her room. Sure that she was out of sight, Narcissa hurried to the parlor to greet the guest who would be arriving shortly.

Soon the flames turned green, and Ginny Weasley stepped through into the parlor. After dusting the soot from her robes, Ginny greeted Narcissa with mild reservation. "Where's Hermione?" she asked as Narcissa had tea service brought to them.

"Resting," Narcissa replied. "She hasn't been napping long lately, usually just ten to fifteen minutes. By that time, her back starts to hurt and she gets up. Poor dear, I'm sure she's ready for this whole experience to be over."

"But otherwise, she's been alright?" Ginny wondered, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I've written to her a few times, but school's been busy. Harry and Ron still aren't speaking to her?"

Sadly, Narcissa nodded. "I don't think either has attempted to contact her," she replied. "Your brother, Ronald, said he would try."

"But Harry probably put a stop to that," Ginny interjected angrily. "Ron'll do anything Harry says. I never thought anything would come between the three of them."

"And then Draco did," Narcissa retorted. "Anyhow, I'm glad you were able to come. I'm sure your family had something planned."

The young redhead shrugged. "Just the usual - loud, too much food, too many people. I think it'll be nice to spend it here."

"I think so too," Narcissa replied with a smile.

It wasn't long into their conversation when Narcissa heard a panicked cry before hearing Hermione call for her. The pair exchanged a worried look before making a hasty exit from the parlor. They made it to the second floor in seconds, only to find Hermione leaning against the door frame to her room, holding her stomach.

"Mione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked, reaching her friend first.

"Gin? What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, pain momentarily forgotten.

"Let's not worry about that now," Narcissa spoke. "What's wrong, dear?"

Hermione took a deep breath and looked up at Narcissa with tears in her eyes. "I think my water broke."


	12. Chapter 12

Again, I want to thank everyone for their name suggestions. I had two winners, both of whom were given a sneak peek at this chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and have a great weekend!

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><p>Chapter 12<p>

_My dearest Draco,_

_Please, come home soon. Hermione has gone into labor, and the baby is coming weeks short of her expected arrival. Your family needs you now._

_Love,_

_Mother_

Draco stared in shock as he read his mother's letter; the first one he had opened in the many months he'd been gone. The owl waited impatiently at the window for him to move, but he was too frozen by what he read to do anything. It wasn't until Blaise snatched the letter from his hands that he began to breathe again.

"The baby's coming," he whispered.

Blaise held the letter up to his face and read. "I'm willing to wager it already came," he replied. "Your mum wrote this two days ago. What are you going to do?"

"Go home," Draco replied simply. He wasted no time gathering clothes or toiletries. Equipped with only his wand and the clothes on his back, he Apparated back to his childhood home and the family that awaited him.

The house was dark and quiet when he arrived. Finding no one in the family room, parlor, or dining room, he set off for the second floor, wondering if his mother had moved Hermione into his old bedroom. Again coming upon no one, he set off down the hall for the guest room. There was someone in the bed sleeping peacefully. Beside it sat a small cradle, from which he could feel magic emanating. As silently as possible, he shut the door behind him and made his way to his child. She was the little girl from his dreams. A thin smattering of dark blonde hair covered her small head. Her lips formed a perfect bow and her nose was every bit like Hermione's. She was small and perfect and his.

"I thought I heard someone come in." Draco turned, startled to find he was no longer alone. "I'm glad you're home," Narcissa whispered.

"She's okay, right?" he asked, a twinge of panic in his voice. "Hermione and the baby, they're both alright?"

Narcissa nodded in the darkness, and it was only by the moonlight that Draco saw her reaction. "She's small, but she's a fighter," she replied. "Three weeks early. The Healer put charms around the cradle to keep her warm, help her to grow. Hermione called it an incubator."

"Could I hold her?" he asked, inching closer and closer to his daughter. "I won't hurt her, will I?"

Narcissa moved closer and rested a hand on her son's back. "You won't hurt her," she assured him. She lifted the baby from her bed, receiving a smile whine of discontent, and led Draco to the rocking chair. "Just be gentle. Here, sit down and hold her."

He did as he was told, and gasped when the small bundle was placed in his arms. He stared for a long time, willing himself to memorize each feature, each facet of his newborn. "What's her name?" he asked.

Narcissa smiled as she lovingly watched her son and granddaughter. "Naya Hope," she told him. "Hermione said it means renewal."

"I'll bet she spent months researching it," Draco joked. "It's perfect."

Nodding in agreement, Narcissa bent down and kissed the top of Draco's head. "I'll let the two of you get acquainted," she decided. "I'm glad you're home, sweetheart, even if it's only for a little while."

"Thanks, Mum. I am too," he replied. He looked down at the baby, watching as her eyelids twitched as she slept and her lips turned to a pout before she yawned. "You really are perfect," he whispered. "I was so scared when your mum told me you were coming. I'm still not sure I can do this, but I want to try. I won't even get mad if you tell me I'm rubbish at it. Hermione will make up for it, I'm sure of that.

"We were never friends, you know," he continued, tracing his finger over Naya's warm cheek. "In fact we hated each other. We used to call one another names and try to curse each other. And then she saved my life. That'll have to be a story for another day though. Just know, always know, that your mother is the bravest person I've ever had the privilege of knowing. She's sacrificed a lot for the people she loves, and while I hope you never go through what she's gone through, I want you to be just like her."

From the bed, Hermione whimpered loudly as her tossed and turned. Draco rose from the chair and carefully laid Naya back down in the cradle. Moving to the bed, he sat down and placed a hand on Hermione's cheek. Her eyes flew open at the gentle touch and she gasped. "Your eyes," she whispered, breathing heavily.

"What about them?" he asked.

"Normal," she replied, shutting her eyes momentarily. But when she opened them again, she pushed his hand away and struggled to sit up. "What are you doing here? You hurt her, and I swear to God, Malfoy, you'll wish you were never born."

He turned his attention back to their sleeping child and smiled. "I would never hurt her," he vowed. "And I think I've spent too many years hurting you to want to continue. I'm sorry I left. I was...well, I was trying to do something to redeem myself, but I don't think it worked."

With a bit of difficulty, Hermione moved to the other side of the bed and stood. "I'm not interested in what you've done," she retorted angrily. "You wanted to prove yourself to me? You wanted me to see that you were worthy to be a part of this life? Then you should have stayed. Nothing, Malfoy, _nothing_ you could have done these last seven months will make up for the fact that you left. Please, just get out."

He could understand how she felt. After all, his reaction to the news that she was pregnant and his subsequent fleeing couldn't have helped to change her already poor opinion of him. She had always seen him as a coward, and running away had only served to cement the belief that at any little sign of trouble he would be gone.

With a sigh, he acquiesced and moved to the door. Opening it, he turned back to face her once more. "I meant what I said - I hope she's exactly like you," he told her. "And while I'm sure it means nothing to you, I _am_ sorry for everything."

She sat down on the side of the bed and let her head fall. "I want to believe you, Draco," she replied, "but it's going to take some time."

Nodding, he said, "Sleep well, Hermione."

She was already leaning back against the pillows as her eyes began to close once more. "You too," she responded drowsily. "After all, you've got a busy eighteen years ahead of you."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
>"So, he really is back," Lucius drawled, reading the morning paper over breakfast.<p>

Narcissa beamed with excitement. "I went in to check on Hermione and the baby, and there he was," she replied. "Oh, it's so good to have him home. They can be a proper family now. I was so worried that Naya would never know him."

Turning the page, Lucius eyed her briefly over the top of the paper. "I wouldn't put all your eggs in one basket, love," he stated. "Hermione is stubborn, and she'll do what she thinks is best for her child. If Draco can't stay in one place long enough, she'll see to it that he never sees Naya again. And I will fully support her decision."

"You're honestly saying that you would help to keep your son from seeing his child?" she demanded.

"That's exactly what I am saying," he replied, his voice cool and detached in contrast to the angry shrill of his wife. "I won't sit by and watch Draco make the same mistakes I did. If he wants to be a part of Naya's life, then he needs to prove that to her."

"Who has to prove what to whom?" Hermione inquired, tiredly taking a seat beside Narcissa. She made a plate for herself before preparing a cup of tea. Hermione slowly pushed her eggs around the plate, waiting for one of them to answer her question and finally acknowledge Draco's sudden presence.

Narcissa carefully sipped her tea, placed the cup back on the saucer, dapped at the corners of her lips with her napkin, then asked, "Did Naya sleep through the night?" Hermione nodded. "Did you?"

"Where's Naya?" Lucius wondered after Hermione shook her head.

Looking down at her breakfast, Hermione continued to push around the eggs until they were pressed up against the toast. "Sleeping," she replied. "Um, Draco's watching her."

Lucius looked concerned, but Narcissa seemed hopeful that it was the first step in mending the rift between the pair. It was naive to think that with the arrival of their daughter Draco and Hermione would marry, but Narcissa was the only person privy to her son's feelings. She wanted to see them together, to watch as they became a true family. Draco had always been one to get what he wanted, but Hermione was stubborn and not easily swayed. He would not have an easy time winning her affections, and Narcissa wondered how long it be before he gave her up.

Narcissa excused herself to check on the baby, leaving Hermione and Lucius alone. Setting his paper aside, he looked at the tired girl pointedly. "So, is his return everything you had hoped for?" he inquired.

"I thought I'd be happier," she admitted, pushing away her uneaten breakfast.

"Have the two of you spoken? Has he at all mentioned why he was gone so long?" Lucius asked.

She shook her head. "I told him I didn't care," she replied.

"Well, I'd like to know what's kept him away," he huffed, eliciting a soft giggle from Hermione. Rising from his seat, he rounded the table until he stood by her side. "You're a member of this family now. Just...remember that."

If she was perplexed by his comment, Lucius didn't allow her the opportunity to address it. He left the dining room, leaving her alone. Deciding it was finally time to have a talk with his son, he found Draco in Hermione's room. Seated in the rocking chair he had positioned to face the windows, Draco held Naya in the crook of his arm while feeding her a bottle. So focused was he on his daughter, that when Lucius addressed him, he jerked upright.

"Didn't mean to startle you," Lucius apologized, taking a seat on the foot rest in front of Draco. "I heard you gave Hermione quite a fright last night."

A delicate blush dusted Draco's cheeks. "I didn't account for the time difference," he murmured.

Lucius nodded. "And how long will it be before you leave again?" he wondered.

Sighing, Draco looked down at his daughter as she finished drinking. Though he had only been home ten hours, he was already in love with Naya. He wanted to be a part of her life as long as Hermione allowed it. "I'm not going back," he said.

"But your mission," Lucius replied mockingly.

"I'm done with it," Draco stated, shaking his head disappointedly. Setting aside the bottle, he moved Naya to his shoulder and gently patted her back. "Honestly, I thought once I found them, they would be more receptive. I was wrong though."

The old man held up a hand to silence his son. "This is not the conversation you should be having with me," he stated.

"Hermione doesn't want to hear it," Draco mumbled. Carefully, he rose from the rocking chair and laid Naya down in the cradle near Hermione's bed. She soon fell asleep as Draco stood over her, stroking her stomach. "I know I shouldn't have left, but I thought I was doing a good thing. I have no idea how to make things right with Hermione now."

Lucius stood behind his son and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Be a man, Draco," he instructed calmly. "Prove to Hermione that you can be a father. Don't make the mistakes with Naya that I made with you. You've spent far too much of your life trying to emulate me. Let that end now."

Draco turned his head and frowned. "I stopped wanting to be you the moment Voldemort inducted me into his ranks," he sneered. "I won't abandon my family, not again. Not ever again."

Taking a step back, Lucius nodded knowingly. "I never wanted you to get caught up in any of that," he replied. "You and your mother never should have been put in the position you were in. I was weak, though, and didn't know how to get away from him. Many terrible things happened because of me, and I will regret them until the end of my days. I know you feel guilty for what Bellatrix forced you to do to Hermione, but look at what came of it."

He looked back at Naya and ran a finger down her cheek. "I'm never leaving you," Draco promised.

"Then you need to let Hermione know that," Lucius advised.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
>It was days before they spoke. Draco stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Sighing, he breathed in the moist air the bathroom offered, and tiredly exited. Entering his room, he was surprised to find Hermione seated on his bed, waiting for him.<p>

"Ginny's coming over today," she informed him, her tone detached and her eyes not meeting his. "I just thought you ought to know."

"Are you warning me to stay out of sight?" he wondered, pulling clothes from the dresser drawers. "My mother told me she was here when Naya was born."

"She was," Hermione confirmed. "Honestly, it doesn't matter to me one way or the other if you're around. I would caution you though, she's dangerous with a wand."

Nodding, he took his clothes into the bathroom and dressed. "Will she hex me if she sees me?" he wondered.

Hermione shrugged. "Probably," she replied.

With a mirthless chuckle, he left the bathroom and shut off the light. It was no secret that the Weasleys were a temperamental bunch, and Ginny had the least patience of them all. Staying out of sight would be his best chance of making it through the day unscathed. It also meant time away from Naya though.

"She doesn't know," Hermione said softly. Draco's pale eyebrows furrowed, not knowing what she meant. "Um, no one knows what really happened that night, and I want to keep it that way. If she hates you, it's not because of that."

"But why?" he asked in quick shock.

"Because," she sighed, "there's been enough bad blood between you and us for too long. I thought I could just never tell them what happened, but when I found out I was pregnant I had to tell them something. At the time, I didn't want to give them another reason to jeopardize your case."

Draco sat down in the nearest chair, careful to keep his distance from Hermione. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd had me shut up in Azkaban for the rest of my life," he muttered, running his fingers through his wet hair.

Hermione rose from the bed and crossed the room to stand beside Draco. "But then Naya would grow up believing that her father is the bad guy," she said, softly placing her hand on his shoulder. He opened his mouth to comment, but she interrupted. "You're _not_ the bad guy. Not for this, not for our daughter."

Though he wouldn't look her way, Draco covered her hand still on his shoulder. For the first time since he held her that night, he felt an affection for Hermione that he had never before felt for anyone. With a firmer grip on her hand, he asked, "Can I tell you were I've been now?"

"It doesn't matter," she replied, attempting to pull away.

Her hand still in his, Draco rose and turned to face her. "It _does_ matter," he replied angrily, tightening his hold on her hand. "I've spent the last seven months trying to prove that I can do something good. I thought it would make me feel less guilty, but I failed."

"Draco, you didn't need to prove anything to me. I've told you that," she replied, exasperated as she tried to pull away from him.

"I failed," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I tried to bring them back and I failed."

"Who?" she asked softly. His change in demeanor - from angry to heartbroken - scared her.

Dropping her hand, Draco walked away and pushed back the curtains. He stared out on the snow covered grounds of his family home. As a child, he loved this place with the wide open spaces he could roam and the expansive play areas the Manor afforded him. He was anxious to see Naya grow up there as well, without the haunting memories of a dark reign.

Hermione stepped tentatively up behind him. Now she could see what he could. She never thought she could be comfortable living at Malfoy Manor. For decades, it had been associated with dark magic and muggleborn hatred. But then they took her in when she had no one else, and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had become family.

"Draco, who is it you failed to bring back?" she asked again.

He pressed his hand to the cold glass. "You're a clever witch, Hermione," he stated. "I thought we'd have an easy time finding them. After all, how many places could they hide in Australia? It took Blaise and me six months to locate them, and another three weeks to reverse the memory charm. But when we did..."

"You found my parents?" she asked, feeling her eyes burn with the fresh, warm tears.

Again, he continued talking as if she had never spoken. "No matter what I did when I was younger, I could always count on my mother to forgive me. My father was always a bit more difficult, but she always convinced him to come around. It never occurred to me that a parent would turn their back on a child."

The bedroom door opened, and in walked Ginny with a crying Naya in her arms. "Mione, the baby's a bit upset," she informed her friend. "I think it's her nappy. I've never changed one before, so I figured I'd give her to you."

"Could you ask Narcissa to do it?" she asked, her voice cracking as she took in what Draco said.

"Mr. Malfoy said she's in the bath," Ginny replied, sounding more harried the more Naya wailed.

"Could you ask him to do it then? We're in the middle of something." Her back remained toward her friend, not interested in letting her see her cry.

Ginny laughed as she carefully bounced Naya in her arms. "I'm not really comfortable with that."

"Merlin, Ginny," she cried, "give us a minute, please."

Slowly, the younger witch backed out of the room and shut the door behind her. Draco turned away from the window and took a distraught Hermione in his arms. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he murmured.

"What did they say?" she asked, gathering fistfuls of his shirt in her hands.

"Perhaps now isn't the time-"

"What did they say?" she demanded, glaring at him through wet eyes.

Sighing, Draco hung his head. "Blaise reversed the charm and we told your parents who we were," he said. "Your mum said she knew all about me, that she knew I was a Death Eater. I told her the war was over, and that you were alright. I told her what you had done, wiping their memories of you and replacing them with new ones to protect them from people like me. She seemed...angry that you used magic against them."

"So, when you said you failed...," she murmured.

His left hand came up to brush away the tears from her cheeks. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "They're not coming back."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Ginny attempted to close the diaper around the squirming newborn when Draco entered Hermione's room. He stood in the doorway observing, a wry smile on his face as the frustrated girl wrangled his daughter back into her clothes. "Need a hand?" he finally asked.

She nodded gratefully, happy to have even Draco Malfoy lend her a hand. "Is Hermione okay?" she asked as Draco took over dressing Naya.

"She will be," Draco replied cryptically as he lifted the baby from the changing table. She had quieted down and her eyes closed as her father held her close. "I had to tell her something, something that upset her. I'm sorry she got mad at you."

"Wow, an apology _and_ an offer to help all in the same day," Ginny commented. "Who are you and what have you done with the git we grew up with?"

"The git grew up," he retorted, kissing the top of his child's head. Gently, he placed Naya in the bassinet beside Hermione's bed.

Nervously fingering a lock of her red hair, Ginny took a seat on the far edge of the bed. "Malfoy, there's something that's been bothering me for the last week," she stated. "And with Hermione being as on edge as she is, I'm kind of afraid to ask her."

Draco shifted from foot to foot, suddenly wishing he'd never come into the room in the first place. He took a seat in the rocking chair near Naya, and gently tipped it back and forth. It would have been calming if he didn't fear what Ginny would ask. "Go ahead," he finally told her.

Taking a breath to calm her nerves, she started, "Well, see your mum kept mentioning that Naya was three weeks early. But it doesn't quite add up if you and Hermione got together _after_ the war."

"What are you asking me exactly, Weasley?" he inquired.

"I guess what I'm asking is did something happen between the two of you before the war?" she asked, though she was afraid of his answer.

Turning his head, Draco looked out the window and longed to be outside where the air was cold and clear. The room had suddenly begun to feel to warm, and he wished Hermione were there to answer her friend's questions. Except to Blaise, he had not mentioned that night in eight months. He had been reluctant to tell his friend, but Blaise Zabini had a way of getting things out of him, things he never intended to tell.

"It's why I left," he replied as a thinly veiled answer to her question.

"What happened?"

"What happened is Hermione and your brother and your boyfriend were captured by Snatchers," he stated, his tone biting and bitter as he relived that night. "What happened is a deranged lunatic halfblood poisoned the minds of family. I watched my aunt torture her for a good hour before she forced me to...take over."

Ginny was gobsmacked. Her best friend had been raped and now lived in the very house where the heinous act had taken place. But why had she covered it up? Hermione testified at the trials of both Draco and Lucius Malfoy, but never had it come up that anyone besides Bellatrix Lestrange had hurt her. There had to be more to it than what Draco had told her.

Rising from the bed, she left the room only to run into Hermione in the hallway. She had been crying; her eyes were red, cheeks flushed, and bottom lip slightly swollen from chewing it. Hermione hadn't seen Ginny until she realized someone was blocking the door. "I'm sorry," she said tiredly.

"It's fine," she replied, a bit shaken still from her conversation with Draco.

"No, it's not, Gin," Hermione said. "Draco had just given me some bad news. I shouldn't have yelled at you, especially when it concerned Naya. I'm sorry."

Ginny shook her head. "It's fine, really," she replied. "I'm gonna go."

"What, why?" Hermione wondered. "You just got here."

The younger witch surveyed the hall to make sure they were completely alone. "He told me what happened," she whispered, leaning back against the wall beside the double doors that led to Hermione's room. "Why would you protect him? Or any of them for that matter if they stood around while you were tortured."

"He wasn't going to do it," Hermione said with a sigh, leaning against the wall opposite Ginny. "It wasn't consensual on either of our parts, which is why I didn't tell Ron or Harry what happened."

Pushing away from the wall, Ginny guffawed as she stared down her best friend. "Consensual or not, he still did it, and look where it's gotten you," she retorted louder than she intended. "You're 19, Hermione, with a baby, living in the home of people who were strangers to you up until a few months ago. Malfoy did this to you, he put you in this situation, and you're content to let it happen."

"I didn't _let_ it happen," Hermione argued. "If Draco had said no, we'd both be dead, along with Harry and Ron. Would that have been better? Imagine what kind of world you'd be living in if Harry had died that night. You probably wouldn't be alive either."

"You know, when Harry first told me you were pregnant and that it was Draco's, I thought they were crazy to be mad at you," Ginny stated. "I thought, 'how could you do that to your best friend?' Did you know we broke up because I sided with you? I thought you loved him."

"And now that you know that I don't?" Hermione wondered, pushing away from the wall.

Ginny shook her head and copied the older woman's action. She began to walk down the hall, nearing the staircase, but turned back to face her friend once more. "I don't know, Mione," she said. "I just don't understand how you can stay here now."

Hermione watched her disappear down the stairs before entering her room. Draco was still rocking back and forth in the chair near Naya's cradle as he stared at the window as snow fell. She closed the door with a soft click, but he never looked her way. It wasn't until she reached Naya, finding her fast asleep, that Draco spoke.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Sinking down onto the bed, she sighed. "I shouldn't have lied to them," she replied. "I could have told them the truth - that Bellatrix forced you to do it, that you didn't rape me. I wouldn't have lost everyone if I'd told them what really happened."

Rising from his seat, Draco joined her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as a fresh wave of sorrow washed over her. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

Shaking her head, Hermione pulled away. "I just want to sleep," she told him. "The baby's been keeping me up, and I'm just tired."

"Alright," he acquiesced. Rising, he pulled back one side of the blankets and waited for Hermione to slip in before he drew them up over her. Her eyes closed as soon as her head hit the pillow. Before he left, he kissed her forehead. "It'll get better, Hermione. I promise."


	16. Chapter 16

Is it bad that my coworker (who I sit right next to) had a baby five months ago and her name is Naya, and I completely forgot that? He was on leave the last three months, so I've seen pictures and heard her name plenty of times. Perhaps my case of "out of sight, out of mind" is worse than I feared.

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><p>Chapter 16<br>Narcissa stood outside of Hermione's bedroom, hesitant to enter. It had been three days since Ginny had been told the truth about Hermione's capture so many months ago. In that time, she hadn't left her room, sleeping away most of the day while Draco cared for their daughter. She had hoped Hermione would come out of her depression, but the days passed and she remained in bed.

Down the hall, Draco emerged from his room with Naya bundled tightly in a pale pink blanket. "Oh, Mum, thank Merlin," he said, exasperated and exhausted. "I hate to do this to you, but could I take Naya? I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Perhaps you should take her in to Hermione," she suggested. "She hasn't seen her in days. I'm sure she's missing her child by now."

Draco yawned and readjusted the baby. "She lost her parents and the only friend she had left within an hour of each other," he replied. "I'd prefer to give her some time."

She glared at the bedroom door as if Hermione could see it. "I'll take her," she decided. Relieved, Draco handed Naya to her grandmother and returned to his room for a bit of rest. "Let's go see your mummy," she whispered when his door closed.

The room was dark despite the early morning hour. The curtains were pulled shut and the lights were out. Not a speck of sunlight brightened the room. Hermione, covers pulled up to her chin, had placed a pillow over her head to block out any noise and the nonexistent light. Quietly, Narcissa approached the bed and laid Naya down beside Hermione. She pulled away the pillow and cast it aside.

"Time to wake up," she said sternly, shaking the sleeping girl's shoulder. Hermione groaned and groped about for a pillow, eyes closed all the the while. "No, no more of this. Today, you will get out of bed, have a bath, and eat a meal with us as a family. Do I make myself clear?"

In response, Hermione groaned and rolled onto her other side, facing away from Narcissa. "Too tired," she mumbled, burying her face in the pillows.

"Impossible," Narcissa scoffed. "Now up." She stripped the blankets from the bed after moving Maya to her cradle.

"Please, just-" Hermione started, but was soon interrupted by the impatient witch towering over her bed.

"No, I will not 'please, just'," she replied. "You have a child now who needs her mother. I understand that you're hurt, but you have responsibilities now. We've been patient long enough, but today you will leave this room."

Rolling onto her back, Hermione stared up at the ceiling as her eyes watered. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

With a sigh, Narcissa sat down on the side of the bed and lit the tip of her wand to give them some light. "It's understandable," she replied. "You've been through so much, and handled it all remarkably. Finding out that your parents aren't coming back couldn't have helped."

"Is Draco alright?" Hermione asked, bending her legs at the knee so her feet rested flat against the mattress.

Despite all that had happened to her, it amazed Narcissa that her first concern after seeing Naya was not herself, but Draco. "He's tired," she admitted. "He told me Naya kept him up a bit last night, but I know he's been worried about you."

"Tell him I'm fine," she replied, though both women knew that wasn't true. From the corner of her eye, she caught Narcissa's dubious expression. "Well, I'll _be_ fine."

"I know," the older woman replied with a smile. "You're strong, sweetheart, stronger than you realize."

Shaking her head, Hermione rolled away once more. "No, I'm not," she said, her voice full of self pity and loathing. "I could have found a better way to protect my parents, but the first thing I thought of was wiping their memories. When I didn't want to die, I told Draco to do what Bellatrix wanted him to do. I wanted to give up before the war even started. I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to see people die. I just...I wanted to run away and never come back."

"But you didn't," Narcissa retorted, rubbing her back comfortingly. "You stayed by your friends' sides. You fought to protect the people you love, and stood up for what was right. Do you think anyone else in this house can say that?"

"You saved Harry," Hermione mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow beneath her head.

Narcissa laughed softly, detecting a hint of resentment as she spoke her former friend's name. While it was true that she had lied to the Dark Lord that Harry was dead, she had done it only to get information about Draco. She hadn't been concerned that the boy was still alive as much as she was that her son was still alive.

"You don't deserve any of what's happened to you," Narcissa said sadly. "I'd like to believe that if Draco had done to us what you did for your parents that I would forgive him. They may be mad that you used your magic to protect them, but I know they still love you. How could they not?"

The Grangers had never been very trusting of the magical world. Muggles were taught to believe that magic was all a fantasy, and that's what the couple believed. And then their only child turned 11 and received her letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There had always been something different about Hermione, and now they had confirmation. She was a witch.

When she befriended Harry and Ron, and consequently the rest of the Weasley family, the Grangers began hearing stories of a murderous madman hellbent on eradicating the world of anyone of less than pure blood. They often heard tales of the adventures she and her friends had; dangerous tales that left behind scars and caused nightmares. She had fought monsters, been petrified, nearly killed by a werewolf, and dueled men twice her age all before her sixteenth birthday. And then Hermione wiped their memories before they knew that a war was coming.

It was the last straw.

"I know we're not your parents, but we are a family in our own way," Narcissa said quietly. "We love you, Hermione. You have a family here as long as you want one. We can't replace your parents, but we're here for you."

Sitting up, Hermione moved closer and wrapped her arms around Narcissa's neck. "Thank you," she whispered. "I think I'd like to come down for some breakfast."

Smiling, Narcissa pulled back and brushed Hermione's hair behind her ear. "We've set a place for you every day. You come down when you're ready," she replied. She slid off the bed, checked on Naya who now slept peacefully in her cradle, and made her way to the door. Before she left, she turned to Hermione and said, "We love you, Hermione. Never forget that."

"I love you too," Hermione said with a smile as she got out of bed for the first time in three days.


	17. Chapter 17

Happy Monday dear readers! Or Unhappy Monday if you're like me and are not a fan of Mondays. Here's my question of the day - what kind of pizza place, in a town chock full of businesses and people who eat lunch, opens at 2pm? They serve gluten free pizza, but not until 2:00; a good hour and a half after my lunch break. Bunch of teases!

Anywho, some of my reviewers have commented that they want their Dramione romance already, and we are getting so close!

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><p>Chapter 17<br>Hermione sat on the sun porch with a warm cup of tea and a book. Fresh snow had fallen the night before and she was mesmerized by the clean, white powder. If she could paint, this was the scene she would capture - pristine, untouched, and beautiful, Malfoy Manor was picturesque in its winter beauty.

That was where Draco found her. With a blanket in hand, he entered quietly and sat beside her. He spread the blanket across their laps and stared out at the snow-blanketed gardens. "I love it here," he heard her whisper. He looked at her skeptically, causing her to smile.

"I do," she swore. "I know I shouldn't, with all that's happened here I should hate it. Ever since I found out I was a witch, I sort of grew away from my parents. First it was the Weasleys who took me in, and now your family. It might sound crazy, but I feel more at home here than I did at the Burrow."

"Yep, that sounds crazy," he agreed, delighting in the sound of her laugh. "I'd wager though that they like you more than they like me. I've never seen my father take such a shine to anyone the way he does you."

"I like him too," Hermione replied. "Now which sounds crazier - liking Lucius Malfoy or feeling at home here?"

Stretching an arm over the back of the sofa, Draco watched as Hermione readjusted the blanket to keep them both warm. She leaned into his side as they laughed. "It's nice seeing you smile again," he commented.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted," she said, the smile slipping from her face. "I shouldn't have dumped Naya on you like I did."

"She's my daughter too," he reminded her.

Shaking her head, she replied, "I know that, but it still wasn't right. I kept thinking that I lost everything because I had her, and that hurt more than anything. It's not her fault, I know that, but because of the war I thought I lost everything - my friends, my family, the life I thought I would have once it was over.

"And then your mum said that she loved me," she continued. "It felt so right then."

"Do you regret it?" he asked. "Having Naya, I mean."

Again, she shook her head. "Not once," she affirmed. "I've never loved anyone as much as I love our baby."

He fidgeted nervously beside her as he asked, "Do you regret having her with me?"

"No," she said definitively. From the corner of her eye, she noted the look of utter shock he wore. She could see that he wanted an explanation, but couldn't seem to voice his confusion. "As much as I wanted to hate you and blame you for what happened, I know it wasn't your fault. You were sweet and gentle that night, and completely unlike the you I grew up with. I was more upset than angry when you left. I kept hoping you'd come home. I understand now why you didn't, but I'm glad you're here now."

"I am too," he murmured. His arm slipped from the cushions to wrap tentatively around her shoulders. This effectively pulled her closer to him, but Hermione gave no protest. And it went no further than a simple embrace. With her legs beside her on the sofa and her head resting against his shoulder, her left arm draped across his torso as both stared out at the snow that began to fall.

Unseen from the doorway, Narcissa watched the young pair silently. Hands rested on her shoulders as Lucius joined her. "The baby is fed, changed, and asleep," he whispered, his eyes only for his wife.

"They look content," Narcissa commented, leaning back against Lucius's chest. His hands disappeared from her shoulders as his arms wound around her waist. "It's been far too long that they've been unhappy. Perhaps being together is what they need."

"And what makes you think they're 'together'?" Lucius inquired.

"Well, if they aren't, then they should be," she stated defiantly, chin up and her nose in the air.

In response, Lucius chuckled against her shoulder, fearful that he would be overheard. Like his wife, he wanted to see his son settle down, and Hermione was the perfect witch with whom to do it. And it wasn't just for his granddaughter's sake that he wanted the pair to be together. She was smart and understanding, despite the stubborn streak that ran through her. Loyalty ran deeper though, and she cared enough for Draco to lie to her own friends to protect him. The day she moved into the Manor, she had become a member of the family, and Lucius wanted that to be permanent.

He turned his attention back to the young couple and smiled. "I wouldn't be surprised if they married by the end of the year," he commented.

Back on the sun porch, Draco dipped his head until his breath tickled Hermione's ear. "Don't look now, but we have company," he whispered. First, she shot him a look of confusion before peering behind him to find his parents attempting to remain out of sight. Laughing softly, she shook her head and put it back on his shoulder. "Mum's probably planning the wedding now."

"You don't really think she would do that," came Hermione's whispered reply.

"One can never tell with Narcissa," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "She won't really do anything because she doesn't want you to feel pressured," he added when her eyes widened in shock.

Hermione sat up, moving out of his hold. Glancing towards the doorway, she noticed it was now vacant. "We can't get married," she told him.

"Don't worry, Granger. I wasn't proposing," he laughed. "And I won't be. You deserve more, someone better than me."

Reaching out, she took his hand and held it between both of her own. "Stop that," she admonished, glaring sternly at him as Draco hung his head. "Once, years ago, when we were staying at the Black house, I overheard Sirius say something to Harry. He told him he wasn't a bad person, but a good person to whom bad things had happened. You're a good person, Draco. Look at what you did for me, going to Australia to find my parents. The villain wouldn't have done that."

"So, if I proposed to you tomorrow, you'd accept?" he ventured, as if attempting to call her bluff.

Hermione shook her head. "No," she replied, smiling. "But I'll let you take me to dinner."


	18. Chapter 18

I did math all through my lunch hour. That has to warrant a break to post a chapter.

Last night, I had this strange dream that my coworker and Dan Radcliffe were having a cooking competition, and Dan lost. My coworker then began debating whether or not Dan was really a professional chef. It was pretty weird...and I kinda can't look at my coworker now without thinking about how dream him berated Harry Potter.

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><p>Chapter 18<br>"You look ill," Draco commented worriedly when they entered a cozy little restaurant off the beaten path of Diagon Alley. Hermione said nothing, but stood rigid by his side. He followed her gaze to the bar. "We can leave if you want. We don't have to stay here."

"Mr. Malfoy, your table is ready," the hostess announced. Hermione followed her to their table, all the while her eyes trained on a familiar couple at the bar.

Once seated and with menus in hand, the hostess left. While Draco studied the food selection, Hermione studied Harry and Ginny. They sat close, knees touching as they leaned in close to talk quietly. More than once, she was sure Ginny looked her way. It startled her when she felt a hand on her own. Jumping, she turned to face Draco. "I'm sorry," she murmured, lowering her head.

"Don't be," he said softly. "Do you want to go? We'll find someplace else to eat."

She shook her head. "I'm fine, I promise," she replied, setting a smile on her face. With her free hand, she opened her menu and spread it out before her. "So, what's good here?"

At the bar, Ginny scowled as she watched the couple hold hands. She heard only parts of what Harry said to her until he stopped talking altogether to stare at the couple. "Can you believe those two? It's bad enough she defends what he did to her, but to be seen in public like this. It's disgusting," she stated.

"I always thought there had to be more to it than what she told us," Harry agreed. "It never did make sense that she would pick him over Ron. He still loves her, you know."

Ginny nodded. As betrayed as her brother had felt when Hermione broke the news that she was pregnant with Draco Malfoy's baby, the torch he carried for his best friend still burned brightly. He often spoke of reuniting with the witch despite her long absence. Now seeing her with Malfoy, Ginny knew that was no longer an option. "I'm not sure she ever really loved Ron," she replied sadly.

"If you ask me, she never really cared about any of us," Harry muttered.

"That seems a bit harsh," Ginny conceded as he finished his drink and hopped off of the bar stool. "Wait, Harry, where are you going?" she asked, following behind as he made his way to their table.

A shadow loomed over their table as they read their menus. Draco dropped her hand and cleared his throat nervously. Looking up, Hermione gasped, afraid of what Harry might do or say now that they were face to face. "Harry, please don't make a scene," she implored softly, noticing the number of people at the tables surrounding them.

"Dating Malfoy again, are you?" he asked, his tone biting as he ignored her plea. "Didn't even know he was back in town long enough for the two of you to rekindle your little affair. Where _did_ you go, Malfoy? Wasn't it against the terms of your probation to leave the country?"

Draco's face warmed with anger toward his old adversary. It hadn't sat right with him the way Potter and the Weasleys abandoned Hermione when she found out she was pregnant, and while his reaction hadn't been much better, he would have expected her friends to stand by her side. "I was well within the parameters of my probation," he stated, reaching once more for Hermione's hand.

She accepted it readily, glad for the support he offered. Harry sneered at the sight before shaking his head disappointedly. "I thought you cared a little bit more about yourself and your friends, Hermione," he stated. "Even if he were a Death Eater you chose to screw around with, I thought you, of all people, would have known to distance yourself from such trash afterwards. You're a liar, Hermione. You either lied to Ron about having feelings for him, or you lied to us to protect _him_. Either way, you're a liar. How will you explain this to your kid when she starts asking?"

Hermione glared first at Ginny, knowing she had let slip to Harry what happened the night Naya was conceived. Dropping Draco's hand as she got to her feet, she levelled her former friend with an icy glare and slapped him with all the strength she could muster. "Am I still supposed to care about people who turned their backs on me because of my baby?" she wondered. "I don't care what you think of Draco or the Malfoys. They took me in when I had no one else. Draco found my parents. They've been good to me, supportive, and loving. And they love Naya. I have no intentions of distancing myself from any of them."

Abandoning her purse, shawl, and date, Hermione left the restaurant in a hurry. A mirthful sneer crossed Draco's face as Harry cradled his sore cheek. Slowly, he got to his feet and dropped a couple of coins on the table to pay for their drinks. "Go near her again, and I'll make sure you regret it," he forewarned. "Speak about my child, in any context, and you won't live to see your own."

Draco rushed out to find Hermione. There were plenty of people around, but none were Hermione. Rounding the corner, he passed the alley behind the restaurant. It was then he heard a sniffle he had heard so many times before. He was bothered by the fact that he recognized Hermione by her tears, but for the first time it was useful. Slipping into the alley, he found her seated on an overturned supply crate.

"I guess a mutual hatred of me led to their reconciliation," she muttered when Draco approached. "Molly will be thrilled."

Sighing, he bent down to her eye level and brushed away her tears. "I don't give a hang about any of them," he stated. "What Potter said - it's not true. And I know it's easy for me to say that since it's my sorry arse you protected, but you had your reasons for telling them what you did. Please don't beat yourself up over this, over what he said. Potter isn't worth it."

"What do we tell her?" Hermione asked, turning her head away from his hand. "How do we tell our daughter that we don't love each other? Do we...do we tell her that we hated each other and the only reason she was born was because you..."

Taking hold of her chin, Draco turned her head to face him once more. "It doesn't matter what we tell her," he replied. "The only thing that's important is she knows we love her, and we do."

"Is that enough though?"

For the moment, Draco believed it was.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19  
>For ten minutes, Draco rolled an orange under his palm. He hadn't been able to get Hermione's words out of his head for days. Perhaps it wasn't enough for her to just love Naya. It seemed to him that she wanted more, and he wasn't sure he could give that to her. It hadn't been all that long ago that they were enemies thrust into an impossible situation. In the weeks since he had returned to England, they had become closer; oftentimes falling asleep on her bed after an evening with their daughter. It was a tentative friendship that had formed, but it would never be love. She could never love him.<p>

"Draco, please desist," Lucius implored, covering the hand that continued to roll the orange. "If you get even the smallest drop of juice on your mother's table cloth, she will have your head."

"That seems a bit extreme," Draco muttered, but set the orange down on his plate.

"What's got you so distracted?" his father asked, setting aside his paper for the first time since Draco had come down for breakfast. Shrugging, he looked back at the orange as if it were the only object that understood his dilemma. "Does it have anything to do with a certain intelligent, lovely witch who happens to live only a room away from your own?"

His shrug was less decisive this time, and he took to folding his napkin as small as he could before unfolding it and repeating the action. It had _everything_ to do with Hermione, and he knew that his father knew that. But it was a different matter altogether to actually discuss her.

"Do you care for her?" Lucius urged, grabbing the napkin from Draco's hand.

"Of course I care about her," he responded. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't care about the mother of my child?"

Shaking his head, Lucius leaned forward, arms resting on the table. "There's a difference, Draco, between caring _for_ and caring _about_. How did your date with her go?"

"It didn't," he replied. "We ordered two glasses of pumpkin juice and Potter interrupted. Hermione fled shortly after, and we came home to eat in separate rooms. Not exactly what I would call a successful evening."

"But it was you by her side the whole time," Lucius pointed out, careful to keep his tone even. "Now she knows that when she's hurt or sad, she can rely on you to be there for her because you care _for_ her."

Having heard enough, Draco pushed back his chair and stood. Before his father could protest, he left the dining room and swiftly climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time. He could have, probably should have, gone left when he reached the second floor. Instead, he turned right and entered Hermione's room. She had a towel in one hand to dry her hair and her pajamas in the other.

"What's the difference between caring for and about someone?" he blurted the second she made eye contact with him.

Her expression was a cross between befuddled and bemused. Setting aside her bed clothes, she considered his question. "I think," she said, folding her night shirt, "that it's easy to care about someone, especially if it's someone you've known for a while. You care about your friends and family because they're a part of your life."

"And for someone?" he wondered, continuing to lean against the bedroom door.

Shrugging she turned away to check on Naya. "I think caring for someone is like a step away from loving them," she replied.

"I love my mother," he stated.

Shaking her head, she continued. "I think we're talking about a different kind of love," she said, feeling her cheeks warm. She was glad her back was to him so he could not see her blush. Gently, she lifted Naya from the cradle and walked toward him.

Readily, he took her from Hermione's arms, and his nerves seemed to disappear. "Can I care for and about someone at the same time?" he wondered.

"I suppose," she agreed. "What's this about?"

Shrugging, he decided to change the subject. "Blaise is coming back," he informed her, not quite ready to look at her. "He wants to have lunch."

Hermione took a step back, turned, and moved back to her bed to finish folding her pajamas. "Well, have fun," she told him. "Does he know about Naya? Maybe you could bring him back here to meet her."

"No," he chuckled. "He wants to have lunch with the both of us."

She whirled around to face the door, expecting to find him still standing against it. But he moved away to place Naya safely back in her cradle. "Why me?" she wondered.

Draco closed the distance between them and placed his hands on her waist. "Perhaps to see what's so great about the witch I couldn't stop talking about for seven months," he guessed, smiling now as he looked into her eyes. A deep blush colored her cheeks, and he couldn't help himself. He had to feel the soft, warm skin beneath his palm. For months, he dreamed of touching her again, but even in his dreams she pushed him away.

But now she didn't. Hermione let his hands rest on her body, finding his touch tender and pleasant. "All terrible things, I'm sure," she replied with a nervous laugh.

"Not one," he murmured. "I care about you, Hermione."

"About me or for me?" she asked, noticing that the small amount of space between them had shrunk. She could feel his breath, mint from his toothpaste and citrus from his juice at breakfast, on her face.

"Both," he whispered, brushing his lips hesitantly across her own. Immediately, he attempted to pull away, but Hermione's arms wound around his neck to hold him in place.

"Not yet," she told him. This time she initiated the kiss, but allowed him to deepen it.

It had been far too long since she had last felt such affection, and she was happy that it was in Draco's arms that she found it again. It wasn't long before she was seated at the foot of the bed with Draco bent over her as he leaned her back. His legs were on either side of her own and her hands found purchase beneath his shirt on the hard planes of his back. With a sweep of his tongue along her bottom lip, it once more found entrance to her mouth. One hand tangled in her wet curls while the other slid over her stomach, inching up her shirt bit by bit.

"Wait," she said, turning her head away from his kisses.

He quickly moved off of her to lay beside her. "Too fast?" he wondered.

"I'm sorry," she replied, resting her hand on his cheek.

Turning his head, he kissed her palm and smiled. "It's alright," he assured her. Moving away, he got off the bed and helped her sit up. "I promised Mum I'd help her with something today. We'll be in the library if you need anything."

Hermione nodded, working up the nerve to reply. He had just opened the door when she said, "Draco?" He turned back to look at her. "I care for you too," she told him. With a smile, he left her room.


	20. Chapter 20

I thought I would get this posted before I get to work on some math-related task. Don't believe those people who tell you you'll never need math unless you go into a mathematical field. Apparently this math thing is very popular in other areas as well. Of course the day they ask me to apply the Pythagorean Theorem (because that's the only one I remember) I'm quitting.

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><p>Chapter 20<br>Lunch orders had just been placed when Hermione excused herself from the table. "I think I'm leaking," she whispered in Draco's ear when he shot her a concerned look. His concern turned to confusion, and then when it dawned on him what she meant, embarrassment. He quickly nodded and took a sip of water to cool the heat that had risen in his cheeks.

"Is she alright?" Pansy Parkinson asked, eyes following Hermione as she made her way to the ladies' room. Draco nodded and took a longer pull from his glass. "You don't think she's mad that I'm here, do you?"

Beside her, Blaise laughed his deep, humorous chuckle. "I think Granger's too a good a person to be upset by your presence," he replied. "I mean, look at her - living with the Malfoys, dating Draco, and lunching with Slytherins. She's a much better person than the three of us put together."

"She has been handling everything remarkably well," Draco added. "She didn't even blink when Potter was quoted in _The Prophet_ saying 'Hermione who?' when they asked why he hadn't been seen with her since the war. She finished reading the paper and handed it over to my father. Then she and my mother discussed redecorating her room as if she'd never read it all."

Blaise shrugged. "Maybe that's for the best," he replied. "I didn't pay much attention to their little group back in school, but she always seemed like she didn't fit with Potter and Weasley. She's far too cerebral for the likes of them. I always wondered if they only kept her around to help them with homework."

"It took the weasel, what seven years, to even realize she was female," Pansy supplied. "You have a body like hers and a face that pretty, and it takes that long for him to notice? It's better she ditched him for you, Draco. At least you know how to treat a woman properly."

Draco laughed. "Been checking out the mother of my child, Pansy?" he asked. "I hate to break it to you, but she's taken."

"Hardly," she scoffed. "And if I still hated her, I'd point out that her ears are just slightly too big for her head and she is - was - flat chested. But now I know she's not that bad, and if she makes you happy, Draco, then I have no reason to dislike her."

"Speaking of the witch you now have no reason to dislike," Blaise said. "She's taking quite a bit of time in the loo."

Placing her napkin on the table, Pansy pushed back her chair and rose. "I'll go check on her," she volunteered. Pansy was away from the table and disappeared around the bend before either man could protest. Turning down a small corridor, she entered the ladies' room as Hermione exited a stall. She stopped, surprised that she had been followed, and then her senses returned. They met by the sinks as Hermione ran the water to clean her hands.

"Was I gone long enough for Draco to send out a search party?" she wondered.

Pansy handed her a towel as she shut off the faucet. "There was a time, long ago, when I would have killed to have Draco pay attention to me the way he does to you," she said. "Merlin, I must have driven him crazy when we were in school, always hanging on or around him. It was sixth year when he finally sat me down and told me he loved me, but only as a friend. He said he would always be there for me, but he couldn't be _with_ me."

"Did you love him?" Hermione wondered.

"What do a bunch of teenagers know about love?" Pansy retorted, examining her lipstick in the mirror. "I thought I loved him because he was gorgeous and gave me a little bit of attention. I know now that that wasn't love."

Hermione leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms around her stomach. "Is it hard being around him? Now that he and I..."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Pansy shook her head. "I want my friends to be happy, and Draco is one of the best friends I've ever had," she replied. "You make him happy, and I think he makes you happy. You both deserve that."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, stepping away from the counter as Pansy moved closer to hug her.

Exiting the bathroom, they made their way back to the table to join Draco and Blaise. Hermione sat back down beside Draco, and noticed for the first time the way Blaise looked at Pansy. Dark blue eyes sparkled with happiness for her return and love, not lust. She made a mental note to ask Draco later if they were a couple.

Beneath the table, Draco held her hand. "You look happy," he observed, kissing her temple.

"I am happy," she replied honestly, smiling brightly when he looked at her.

And he could tell that she meant it. It had only been four days since their first kiss, but it finally seemed like everything had fallen into place between them. In a short span of time, a month really, they had gone from two people who could tolerate one another to friends to a relationship. Never before had he wanted something to last so badly, and it should have scared him that he had so quickly come to care for Hermione.

But it didn't.

"I'm pretty happy myself," he told her, giving her hand a loving squeeze.

Across from them, Pansy pretended to gag. "Please stop being adorable," she requested. "I may lose my appetite."

Sighing, Draco sat upright, but continued to hold her hand where his friends couldn't see it. He held it as they ate, held it as they ordered dessert, and held it as he and Blaise paid the bill. He let it go only to help her slip on her winter coat. The quartet exited the restaurant to a mob of photographers and reporters intent on scoring an interview with Hermione Granger. Arm around her and Blaise on her other side, Draco protectively led her out of the fray until they could all safely Disapparate back to Malfoy Manor.

"Merlin, Hermione, now I understand why you never leave the house," Pansy exclaimed, falling onto the sofa when they appeared in the library.

"I'm sure having Naya has provided a good excuse," Blaise remarked as he poured himself a drink.

Hermione took it from his hand and set it aside. He made a small sound of protest, but she cut him off before he could say anything. "I'm really not comfortable with you drinking and then holding my baby," she explained, grabbing the decanter as well.

Draco returned with Naya bundled in his arms. "You weren't seriously considering drinking that, were you?" he asked Blaise, implying with his tone that his answer should be no. Blaise, chagrined, shook his head no. Turning to Pansy, whose brown eyes alighted with excitement, he gently eased his daughter into her waiting arms.

"I want one," Pansy gushed, inhaling Naya's clean, baby smell.

"Luckily for the two of you, she brought a small purse to lunch today," Blaise teased.

But Draco and Hermione hadn't heard as they shared a whispered, private conversation. Blaise watched them curiously as Hermione nodded and Draco looped his arm around her shoulders as they rejoined their guests. "There's something we want to ask the two of you," Draco started.

Hermione looked at Pansy as she held Naya and tried to coax a smile out of her. "Well, the two of you are Draco's best friends, and I hope we're right in thinking that won't ever change," she said. "We're hoping you'll be Naya's godparents."

A look of surprise passed between Blaise and Pansy before she turned back to face her friends. "Yes," she replied.


	21. Chapter 21

It's Monday again. I have a really unnecessary conference call in less than an hour. I'm also feeling incredibly lazy today. This should go well.

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><p>Chapter 21<br>Pansy carefully changed Naya's nappy and redressed her as Hermione prepared for a night out with Draco. "You know, I don't think Draco's ever reached a two month anniversary before," she called out as she rebuttoned the onesie the baby wore.

Hermione emerged from the bathroom with her curls pulled into a low ponytail, light makeup, and a white silk robe tied tightly around her waist. "I haven't either," she replied, looking through the dresses Pansy had pulled from the wardrobe. "Aren't some of these a bit fancy? Draco said tonight was supposed to be low key."

"And you can't be low key and elegant?" she wondered, placing Naya in her cradle.

Hermione chuckled. "You just like the burgundy with the slit up the leg," she said, placing it to the side with the rest of the dresses she rejected.

"It's just so pretty," Pansy lamented. With a sigh, she set it aside. She was quiet as she watched Hermione go through the outfits carefully laid out on the bed. In a little more than a month's time, a fast friendship had formed between the pair. "You really trust me to babysit?" she asked, tracing her finger along the hemline of the silk, burgundy dress Hermione had tossed aside.

"Of course we do," Hermione answered without a modicum of hesitation. "_I_ do. This is the first time we're going out without Narcissa or Lucius being home to watch her, and I can't think of anyone more right to babysit than her godmother."

"Merlin, you're a better person than I ever gave you credit for," Pansy remarked, smiling as Hermione selected a simple pale pink blouse with a bowtie neck and black trousers. She reentered the bathroom to dress as Pansy began to gather the remaining articles from her bed. "Are you nervous about tonight?" she asked.

Hermione's laugh filtered back into the room. "Should I be nervous?" she wondered. "Although, Draco did mention doing something a bit out of his comfort zone, so perhaps I should be a bit worried. He didn't happen to mention what he has planned, did he?"

She returned to the room to find Pansy smiling like the cat who got the cream. "Do you have any idea how many girls are jealous that you got Draco?" Pansy inquired. "I mean, yes, he can be rude and insulting and a downright git to most people. But then there's that side of him that only a few people get to see. The kind, loving, loyal, dependable side that you've gotten to see since he returned."

Hermione sat down beside her at the foot of the bed. "I did get lucky," she agreed. "Sure, he left when he found out I was pregnant, but he hasn't left my side since he found out Naya was born. Everyone else left, but he stayed."

Scooting closer, Pansy wrapped her arms around her. "I'm not going anywhere," she vowed.

"You're a much better person that I ever gave you credit for," Hermione echoed.

There was a knock at the door before Draco poked his head in. "Ready to go?" he asked, and when he noticed she was decent, entered the room. "The two of you alright?"

Both women nodded and Hermione rose from the bed to greet him. "More than alright," she whispered as she hugged him. "I'm ready to go."

After saying goodbye to Pansy and Naya, they flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione flashed him a dubious look as they navigated through the crowded pub, wondering if that was what was meant by "out of his comfort zone." And then they left the pub and entered muggle London. Hermione gasped, surprised and a little touched that he would bring her to the muggle world.

"So, dinner?" he asked with his usual air of nonchalance. He led her to a small cafe across the way from the Leaky Cauldron and opened the door to allow her entrance first. They were seated at a small table near the front window, giving them the chance to take in a city that was entirely new to Draco. While she perused the menu, he watched the people that walked by. "It's all so bright," he said in awe, turning when she placed a hand on his arm to get his attention.

"My parents used to bring me to the theater here when I was younger," she shared, setting aside her menu. "I hated it. It was always too crowded and all the lights bothered my eyes. But then we'd get there, and the theater would be dark and peaceful."

"So, let's do that after dinner then," he suggested, taking hold of her hand.

Hermione watched his thumb gently sweep over her knuckles. "I don't think that's a good idea," she replied smiling. "It's a bit too dark, and I'm afraid we'll-"

"Get into trouble?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She laughed. "Fall asleep."

Chuckling, he finally opened the menu, and with a little help from his date, they ordered. She looked dubiously at him when he ordered fish and chips, marvelling at the thought of seeing him eat something greasy with his hands. Conversation passed easily between the couple, often straying to Naya and the latest, greatest thing she did. They finished their meals, often stealing small bites from each other's plates.

After paying, they walked hand-in-hand through the streets of London, window shopping and making plans for a second visit in the near future. When her feet began to hurt, they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron to floo home. And just when Draco began to believe he'd made it through the night without any interruption from Hermione's old friends, Ron Weasley stopped them.

"Mione?" he asked, blue eyes wide as he gazed at her. "You look great."

He got to his feet and wrapped his arms tightly around her rigid form; ignoring Draco as if he never existed. Awkwardly, she patted his back, and it was enough contact for him to pull away. Her return greeting was polite, if not a little uncomfortable, and she reached for Draco's hand as a silent request for them to leave quickly.

"Mum's been asking about you," Ron said, not sensing her desperation. "Ginny told us you had the baby, congratulations. Ever since then, Mum's been asking when you're gonna come home."

Glancing at Draco from the corner of her eye, Hermione expected to see his face reddened in anger. Instead, defeat caused his entire form to sag. She had, for so long, been a part of the Weasley family, and now the opportunity had come to rejoin them. But it wasn't what she wanted, and she had been so sure Draco knew that.

Until now.

"I already have a home, Ron," she replied, turning away to return to the home she loved.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

His girls were still asleep when Draco awoke. He had slept in Hermione's bed because she asked him to stay with her, and not because they happened to fall asleep taking care of Naya as he had so many times in the past weeks. Now, she slept in his arms, snuggled deep beneath the blankets for warmth. In the early light of day, he studied her - the curls that draped over her shoulder, the one that fell against her cheek, the way her eyelids fluttered as she fought for the last few minutes of sleep, the pout of her mouth and the way she licked her lips. She was beautiful and she was his.

"Morning," she whispered, blinking sleep away. He returned her greeting with a soft kiss, and in return, received a smile. "Sleep well?"

"Very," he replied. "I like waking up beside you."

"Same here," she murmured, kissing him once more. "Did she sleep through the night?"

Draco nodded. "At least I think she did," he said. "If she cried, she cried herself back to sleep before it woke us up. Wonder what Pansy gave her to knock her out like that."

Closing her eyes briefly, Hermione sighed. "We may have to consider never letting Pansy leave if it means Naya sleeping more than two hours at a time."

He moved the curl from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. A contented sigh was her only response as she cuddled closer to his bare chest. This could be his life, Draco thought. He could wake up in this bed with this woman in his arms and his little girl never far from his side. It was the life he wanted, surrounded by the people who loved and supported him the most. He wanted his daughter and any children he may have in the future to have the best life. There had been a time he envied the Weasleys for the close bond formed among the large family. But then they kicked Hermione out for being pregnant with his baby, and his entire way of thinking changed.

"What do you think Weasley meant last night?" he asked.

Brown eyes opened and her hand came up from his waist to cup his cheek. "I think he meant that Molly intends to play grandma to Naya," she said. "And maybe they're slowly starting to forgive me."

Draco rolled onto his back, his arm slipping from its place around her. "You would have stayed there if Potter hadn't gotten mad," he stated, knowing there was no question about it.

"It's hard to say," she replied. "I may have left anyhow even if they had accepted my situation. What I do know is that I would have been alone. Even in that crazy house, it would have been the baby and me because she's yours and mine.

"Talking to Narcissa that day after your trial," she continued, moving so she leaned on his chest, "was like fate. If she hadn't been there for me and I had been on my own, I might have gone back the second one of the Weasleys asked. I don't want people in my life who shunned me because I got pregnant. I want to be here with Narcissa and Lucius and you, and whoever else comes into our lives. I meant it when I told Ron I already have a home."

He inhaled a deep breath and blew it out through his mouth. "Can I tell you something? A secret of sorts," he asked. Quickly, he looked down to see the nod of her head. "I love you."

Giggling, she replied, "That's not a secret," pressing a kiss to jaw.

Draco shook his head to dislodge her lips. "I mean I had feelings for you long before now," he murmured. "That night when I held you I didn't want to let go. I wasn't supposed to feel anything toward you but contempt because we were on opposite sides. But I had feelings for you long before that night."

She was shocked to hear his confession. He had always been mean; often going out of his way to insult or demean her. But something had changed during their sixth year, something she later chalked up to Voldemort's task. They had been alone in the library late one night with no one but the books for company. For an hour neither spoke. They sat at separate but close tables. Then he asked to borrow a quill. Five minutes later he moved to her table to share a book. Though there had been no conversation besides polite requests for supplies and texts, there had also been no insults, no rude comments. That year, he stopped calling her a mudblood and started to refer to her as Granger. Once, she was even sure he smiled when they passed each other in the halls.

"How long?" she wondered, needing confirmation that her sixth year theory was correct.

"That night in the library when we shared the Arithmancy book," he replied. "I used to dream about telling you how I felt. I wanted to tell you what I was going through in hopes that you'd...I don't know, save me somehow."

"I would have," she murmured.

Shaking his head, he rolled onto his side to face her. "I couldn't leave. He would have killed my mother," Draco said, wincing at the mere thought of it. "She was the only family I had with my father in prison and no idea how soon his release would be. I couldn't lose her then, just like I can't lose _you_ now."

His gray eyes were overwhelmed with a worry and fear that she believed unwarranted. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised, gently stroking his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "I love our daughter. I love your parents. I love the friends I've made because of you. But most of all, Draco, I _love_ you. That's not going to change."

To mask the sudden bout of nerves he felt, he leaned toward her and kissed her softly. One arm around her waist and fingers wound in her curls, he held Hermione as close to himself as possible. He pulled back, his lips only a centimeter from hers, and asked, "Do you love me enough to marry me?"

Hermione pulled back, widening the gap between them as much as she could with his hands still on her. "Really?" she asked, wide eyed and only a little taken aback by his question.

He nodded and moved his hand from her hair to cup her cheek. "We're already a family, but I want it to be official," he replied. "I want to marry you."

Her smile grew until her eyes squinted, pushing a tear down her cheek. "Yes, Draco," she said, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Yes, I'll marry you."


	23. Chapter 23

I don't usually post on Fridays, but I need something to distract me from my impending doctor's appointment. Shiny objects just aren't cutting it today. Reviews, however, do the trick nicely.

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><p>Chapter 23<br>Draco and Blaise spent the afternoon looking through Malfoy family heirlooms for the perfect ring. Nothing seemed right though. Nothing seemed good enough for Hermione, though he knew she wouldn't be bothered by his selection. That led them from the Malfoy vaults deep beneath Gringott's to the only jewelry store in Diagon Alley. Still nothing impressed him until he turned to a case of rings marked "birthstones".

"Which one is December?" he asked the salesman, a short, white-haired, old man who wore thick glasses and walked with a limp.

"Here," he pointed to a tray of rings contained turquoise, blue topaz, and tanzanite stones. Draco perused the selection and pointed to a platinum band with tanzanite in the center and two small diamonds on either side. Gingerly, the old man removed the ring and handed it to him.

Glancing behind him, he beckoned Blaise over. "What do you think?" he asked, examining the stone with a loop provided by the shop keeper.

"Isn't an engagement ring supposed to be all diamonds?" Blaise wondered, eyeing the ring in his best friend's hand.

"Sure, if you want to be traditional," Draco replied. "But at what point have Hermione and I been traditional? Besides, it's Naya's birthstone."

Blaise nodded as if it were clear to him now. "And Naya's the reason you're marrying her."

Shaking his head, Draco handed the ring back to the clerk and pulled out his coin purse. "We're getting married because we love each other," he stated matter-of-factly. "If she didn't love me, she wouldn't have said yes. Even if she thought it was the honorable thing to do, Hermione wouldn't commit to something if she didn't believe it was right."

After paying for the ring, the pair exited the shop and strolled through Diagon Alley. "Narcissa never tried to force the matter?" Blaise wondered, knowing how old fashioned Pureblood society was. It was unheard of for a man and woman to remain unmarried if she were pregnant. Of course, within the oldest families, it was unheard of for a pureblood to be with a muggleborn.

"Hermione said she mentioned it once early on," Draco replied. "I think Mum figured that she'd been through enough, and forcing her to marry me might push her over the edge."

"It's probably better she let the two of you work it out on your own," Blaise conceded. "At least this way you know the both of you will be happy."

On the other side of Diagon Alley, Hermione and Pansy strolled along as Naya slept peacefully in her pram. While Hermione pushed, Pansy perused the latest edition of _The Daily Prophet_. "How is it even possible that they know already?" Pansy wondered, showing her friend the engagement announcement.

"Beats me," Hermione replied, scowling as she read. "But oh look, a quote from Harry and Ron." Rolling her eyes, she thrust the paper back into Pansy's hands.

Pansy read silently. "At least Weasley had something nice to say," she commented. "Though he does seem to imply that it should have been him. Is Potter ever going to get over this? I mean to call this all a mistake is a bit unfounded given the fact that he hasn't really spoken to you in a like a year."

"That's just Harry," Hermione said with a shrug. She wasn't defending him, nor had she seemed angry by his comments. Rather, she was tired of hearing his input on her life and her choices. He had long ago made it clear where he stood on the subject of her relationship with the Malfoys, and now she wished he could just let it rest.

"Draco won't be happy," Pansy pointed out as she folded up the newspaper and tossed it in the nearest rubbish bin. Hermione glanced at her briefly, her eyes doing the asking. "From what Blaise has told me, Draco was pretty keen on keeping the engagement quiet for the time being. Do Lucius and Narcissa even know?"

Hermione stopped walking to readjust Naya's blanket as she squirmed in her sleep. "Narcissa knows, but Lucius has been out of town for business the last couple of days," she responded. "I'd hate for him to find out from the paper. I am curious to know what his reaction will be though."

Pansy laughed as Draco and Blaise came into sight. "He'll probably tell you that you're too good for Draco," she replied, just loud enough for Draco to hear.

Draco moved to Hermione's side and kissed her cheek before taking the pram from her. "You're not bothered by that rubbish in the paper, are you?" he asked as they continued walking.

Looping her arm around Draco's at the elbow, she leaned her head against his shoulder and smiled at their friends. "I don't particularly care what Harry thinks," she stated, feeling Pansy give her hand a squeeze. "I am, however, interested in the errand you and Blaise just _had_ to run. Must have been pretty important."

"Or not important at all," Blaise casually remarked, walking with his arm around Pansy's shoulders.

She shrugged off his arm and stared at him with wide eyes. "Not important at all?" she balked. "The two of you go off on this secretive little mission of yours, you're gone for over an hour, and you honestly expect us to believe it was nothing important? It has to do with the engagement, doesn't it? Did Draco get a ring?"

"I _am_ standing right here," Draco pointed out. "You could try asking me what we were doing."

Pansy dismissed him with a wave of her hand. Beside her, Hermione chuckled, knowing the same thing Pansy did - until Draco wanted them to know what he had been doing, neither would find out a thing. While Hermione seemed fine with remaining patient, Pansy had a hard time keeping her curiosity to herself. "Why won't you tell me?" she finally demanded, just seconds away from stomping her foot like a petulant teenager.

Laughing, Blaise put his arm back around the pouting witch. "Ever consider it has nothing to do with you?" he wondered.

"No," Pansy stated.

Despite the roll of his eyes, Draco smiled at his friends as he handed the carriage over to Blaise. Hermione shot him a questioning look when he took her hand and pulled her away from the group. "Flourish and Blotts just got the newest edition of _Hogwarts: A History_," Draco explained as they entered the bookshop. Looking around, he noted that the first floor was a chaotic mix of parents and students home from Hogwarts for Easter break. Tightening his hold on Hermione's hand, they ascended to the second, more secluded floor.

"There's no new edition of _Hogwarts: A History_," Hermione stated, smiling as her fiance wound his arms around her. "What's this really about?"

"Do you realize that Flourish and Blotts is the first store in the Alley that we were in together?" he asked, recalling the summer before they started their second year of school. "I stood on those steps, tearing the pages out of a book. I don't know what annoyed you more - that I was doing that or that they were falling on your head."

"Oh, just you in general was enough to annoy me," she replied breezily.

Removing one hand from her waist, Draco dipped it into his pocket. "Anyhow, I was trying to think of a good spot to give this to you, and this was the only place I could think of," he said as he pulled the ring from his pocket. "Your left hand, madam?"

Hermione did as she was told, and Draco slipped the tanzanite and diamond engagement ring onto her finger. "Draco, it's beautiful," she murmured, staring at the ring through tear-hazy eyes. "It's Naya's birthstone, isn't it?"

"If it wasn't for her, I'd never have had the courage to be with you," he replied, brushing away her tears with the tips of his thumbs. "I love you, Hermione."

Rising to the tips of her toes, she whispered, "I love you too," before they shared a kiss.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24  
>Hermione awoke, not to the feel of strong arms around her waist or Draco's breath softly blowing through her hair, but to a note on the pillow beside her. It would have to wait, she realized, when she heard Naya begin to cry. Pushing back the blankets, she padded across the soft carpet and entered the nursery. They had moved her out of Hermione's bedroom and into the nursery only a week before, and Hermione had lost many hours of sleep listening for the slightest sounds.<p>

But now she was near her little girl again, and despite her cries, Hermione felt a strong sense of relief. Naya squirmed in her arms as Hermione tried to calm her. After a few seconds of bouncing, Hermione sat down in the rocking chair to feed her. Naya's cries subsided to the occasional whimper until she had her fill. Hermione held the now contented, full baby in her arms for a few moments longer.

"I hope you never get too old to let me hold you," Hermione whispered as she pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead.

"Draco still lets me hold him sometimes," Narcissa said quietly so she wouldn't startle mother or daughter. "The night Naya was conceived, he cried in my arms until he fell asleep. Even in the most horrible of circumstances, it's still nice to feel needed, to have that reminder that your child still loves you. But Draco can break your heart better than most. He hid his emotions so well for so long, but when it comes to you he can't seem to bottle them up."

"It's easier to think about it that way," Hermione replied, moving from the chair to the changing table to ready Naya for the day. "My mum always said that every cloud has a silver lining. A lot of awful things happened that night, but when it was over, I got Naya and a family who loves me."

Narcissa stood beside her and watched as Naya waved her arms around after grabbing the cloth diaper in Hermione's hand. "Do you miss them?" she asked. "I thought for sure that by now your friends would come around."

Hermione shrugged. "I haven't thought about them much lately," she said honestly. "With the wedding so close and taking care of Naya, I haven't had much time to think about anything else."

It wasn't entirely the truth, but Hermione wouldn't let on that she was disappointed in her friends. As the wedding approached, a part of her wished Harry, Ron, and Ginny would be there. They had been family to her when her parents couldn't be there, and she had come to rely on them just as much as they relied on her. But, she thought, perhaps she had viewed their friendship through rose-colored glasses for too long. Harry had always been quick tempered, and Ron often followed his lead. In the past, they had gone weeks without speaking to her because of minor disagreements. Becoming a Malfoy was a grave sin in their eyes, punishable by lifelong shun.

"Would you be terribly mad if I told you I sent them invitations?" Narcissa hedged, taking a minute step away.

Hermione finished dressing Naya and carried her back to her bedroom. "Does Draco know?" she asked. Narcissa nodded as she took the baby. "And he's okay with it?"

"I think he holds himself responsible for this split between them and you," Narcissa said, bouncing Naya in her lap. "If the circumstances had been different, if you and Draco didn't have Naya now, do you think they would feel the same way?"

"I think so," Hermione replied, stepping out of the walk-in closet with an oversized, cream sweater in hand. "Harry and Ron are too stubborn to see that he's changed and that I love him. I can't think of any situation in which they would approve of my being with Draco, and maybe that says more than I thought about our friendship. I won't be upset if they don't show."

Narcissa propped the baby against the pillows and created a small pillow fort around her so she wouldn't roll off the bed. Confident that she would be fine, Narcissa rounded the bed and stood beside Hermione as she distracted herself with the day's clothing options. She took the red turtleneck from her hand and cast it aside. "It's alright if you are," she told her. "Losing your friends so suddenly couldn't have been easy, especially when you were in the situation you were in. And with your parents not here...no one would blame you, sweetheart, if you felt a little sad that they won't be there."

"But I'm not," Hermione stated, holding her head high though her voice wavered. "They don't want to have anything to do with me or Naya, and that's fine. It's their decision. It's just...I'm not..." She couldn't finish as a wave of sadness crashed over her.

Narcissa embraced her, holding the young witch close as she cried against her shoulder. "Not okay with it?" she asked, hoping to finish what Hermione started. The crying girl nodded, but suddenly pulled back.

"I'm sorry," she said guiltily. Blonde brows furrowed as Narcissa tried to hold her once more. But Hermione stepped back. "No, you took me in. You let me live here without knowing anything about me but that I was pregnant with Draco's baby. And then Pansy and Blaise accepted me. Now I'm bemoaning the loss of people who told me they wanted nothing to do with me anymore. What is wrong with me?"

"There is _nothing_ wrong with you," Narcissa assured her. "You're kind and loving. You risked a great deal to save my son. You love him, don't you? You didn't accept his proposal because of Naya, or because you worried he was your only option?"

Shaking her head, Hermione rounded the bed to sit beside Naya who cooed at the sight of her mother. A smile lit her face when the baby took hold of her index finger. "I love Draco," she said. "I said yes because I love him. I don't believe in marrying someone I don't love because society thinks it's the right thing to do. It all happened so quickly, but being with him feels right."

And about that, she was absolutely certain. She could picture a future with Draco, and it looked promising. She could see a house of their own, watching Naya grow up, having more children. Through it all, she would have Draco by her side to love and support her. Lucius and Narcissa would be there to dote on their grandchildren, and Blaise and Pansy would be the ones they turned to when their parents drove them crazy. It seemed idealistic and maybe a bit far-fetched that life could be so perfect, but after years of turmoil and heartache, it was a nice dream.

"What's she got in her hand?" Narcissa wondered, prying a small envelope from Naya's hand.

Hermione took it, having forgotten about the note she had found earlier on Draco's pillow. Silently, she read his letter, a frown forming as her eyebrows knit together with worry. When she finished, she handed it to Narcissa. "The wedding is in a week," she said. "What if he's not back in time?"

"What could he possibly be thinking, leaving at a time like this?" Narcissa wondered, outraged by her son's behavior. She skimmed the letter once more, ire growing. "What could he possibly get you as a weeding gift that would require him to go away now?"

And then it occurred to her. "My parents," Hermione said.


	25. Chapter 25

It's that time of year again. The time of year when I get a cold. It's always a slow build up to the actual cold until it hits me like an 18-wheeler. Then there's the cough. You know the cough. The cough that comes in February and sticks around until June. I loathe that cough.

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><p>Chapter 25<br>She paced.

Constantly.

For days, Hermione waited near the floo for Draco to return. He'd been gone four days, and she worried that he would not be back in time for the wedding. There were enough stresses with planning the wedding and caring for the baby; a missing fiance was beginning to push her over the edge. Excitement was always followed by disappointment whenever the fire changed from orange to green, signalling a new arrival. It was never Draco, and she began to wonder how long it would be before it was Draco.

"Two days," she stated when Pansy arrived with lunch. "We're getting married in two days."

"Oh, we are?" Pansy asked excited, setting down the tray so she could clap her hands. When Hermione scowled, Pansy sighed and sat down on the small chaise near the fireplace. "I know the wedding is in two days. What kind of maid of honor would I be if I didn't? Look, I can't say when he'll be back because, well, I was terrible at Divination. But I know he will be back in time to marry you. It's all he talks about. Blaise even said that when they were in Australia for all those months, all Draco talked about was you and the family you were starting and how he wanted to be with you forever. It's not cold feet, I promise you that, Hermione."

"I know it isn't," Hermione assured her. "I'm fairly confident that I know exactly what he's doing. There's a part of me that wishes he wasn't doing it though."

When Naya began to fuss, it was Pansy who tended to her as she insisted that Hermione eat. The little girl looked around, her gray eyes wide when they landed on her mother. And then she smiled as a sound akin to laughter filled the room. "You don't want your parents to meet her?" Pansy wondered as she kissed the giggling girl. When Hermione shook her head, Pansy looked inconsolable. "How could you not want your parents to be a part of Naya's life? Of your life? I thought every little girl dreamed of being walked down the aisle by her father on her wedding day. Don't you want them to see her grow up, see how you and Draco love each other? Do you really not want them to come back?"

Setting the lunch tray on the coffee table in front of her, Hermione rose to collect Naya from Pansy's arms. "After what they told Draco, about how they want nothing to do with the world in which we live, I don't see a place for them in our lives," she stated, keeping her tone calm and even. "Yes, it would be lovely to have my father walk me down the aisle. It would be lovely to have my parents at the wedding. I'm happy that Lucius agreed to give me away. I'd have been lost if Narcissa hadn't offered to help me plan. I plan to only marry once, and I only want people who want to be there at my wedding."

"But, Hermione, and please don't be upset with me for saying this," Pansy said, chewing nervously on her fingernail, "your parents might _want_ to be at your wedding. You're their only child."

"It's not that I don't want them there," Hermione said, sighing as Naya happily flashed her a wide, toothless smile. "I'm afraid they won't want to be there. What if Draco gets all the way to Australia and can't convince them to come home? It's harder to think that they don't want to be a part of my life than to think that I don't want them to be a part of it."

With tears in her eyes, Pansy rose from her seat and hugged her friend from behind, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "Everything will work out, you'll see," Pansy murmured. "Draco will be home before you know it, and your wedding will be beautiful. The two of you are perfect for each other."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, pressed cheek to cheek with her friend. Sniffling, Pansy nodded and pulled away to retake her seat. Hermione cast a worried look as her friend attempted to hide her tears. "Oh, Pans, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

Shaking her head, Pansy set a watery smile on her face to let her know it was alright. Before the war ended, her father had been killed for refusing to join Voldemort's ranks. Her mother had slipped into a deep depression, spending months in St. Mungo's psychiatric ward to treat her. Pansy had effectively lost both parents while trying to survive her seventh and final year of school.

"It's fine," she promised. "You and I are a lot more alike that we thought, I imagine. After the war we both lost and needed family."

"You have one here too, you know," Hermione stated. "And then there's Blaise."

Pansy shifted to allow more room for Hermione to join her. "What about him?" she asked innocently, though the goofy smile she wore gave her away.

"Draco said he's never seen Blaise look at anyone the way he does you. He loves you," Hermione stated knowingly. "It's...sort of, maybe part of the reason we chose you and him to be the godparents. At our age, it's hard to determine which couples will last and which ones won't, but Draco and I know that no matter what happens you'll both always be here."

Before Pansy could reply, the bedroom door opened. She took Naya from Hermione's arms as anticipation got the better of her. Draco entered looking exhausted, but happy to be home. She was in his arms, holding tightly to him, as he greeted her with a long overdue kiss. "Stop leaving me like that," she admonished, refusing to relinquish her hold on him.

"I swear I never will again," he replied, tightening his arms around her waist.

"Welcome home, Draco," Pansy greeted him, offering Naya to him. He quickly accepted, letting go of his fiancee in favor of holding his daughter. "So, mission accomplished?"

"I think so," he replied, his smile matching the one Naya wore. "Looks like someone's happy to see Daddy."

Pansy cleared her throat, too impatient to watch the cute father-daughter moment unfolding before her. "Yes, she's adorable, but there are more pressing matters at hand here," she stated. "Start talking."

"It's more of a 'show you' kind of thing," he replied, glancing at Hermione. "It's, well, I'm hoping it could be my wedding gift to you. Will you come downstairs with me?"

Hermione nervously eyed Draco before nodding her head. Naya in one arm, he took hold of Hermione's hand and led her down to the parlor. Her heart hammered harder against her chest with each closer step. Draco entered first with Hermione just behind. Peeking around his shoulder, she saw her guest. Even with his back to her, Hermione knew exactly who it was. She let out a small gasp and he turned.

"Hey, Mione."


	26. Chapter 26

I'm home sick today, and I think Leap Day is a good day for that. I feel like, by working on Leap Day, I'm giving the company an extra day of my time. We wouldn't want that, now would we? Anyhow, enjoy the chapter, and kudos to those of you who guessed Hermione's visitor correctly.

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><p>Chapter 26<br>"Harry?"

He offered a hesitant smile and rose from the settee. Neither moved closer, and Hermione took a step back after wrenching her hand away from Draco. "Why are you here?" she asked before turning to Draco. "Why is he here?"

"To apologize," Harry answered as he continued to keep his distance from the angry witch. He had seen her wand in action and had been on the receiving end of it, and it was an experience he wished not to repeat.

"I don't want to hear it," she said. She turned, ready to walk away from Harry Potter for the final time, when Draco caught her by the wrist.

Try as she might, she couldn't shake free. It wasn't the hand that held her in place, but the beseeching look in the loving gray eyes of her fiance. "Hear him out," Draco implored. "Let him say what he has to say, and then make up your mind about tossing him out."

Sighing, she nodded and sat down across from Harry. Draco left, closing the doors behind him so they would have a bit more privacy. She wished he had stayed. It was too uncomfortable being left alone with Harry. A little over a year ago, she had been to Malfoy Manor for the first time, and under much more torturous conditions. Then, she had wished for Harry or Ron. She had wished that Bellatrix Lestrange would stop or kill her. She had wished that the Malfoys had never existed. She wished Draco hadn't been forced to rape her.

Now, though, it was to the Malfoys to whom she clung. They were family, and more importantly they were _her_ family. Harry had cast her aside, and she wasn't sure she could accept his apology. She would hear what he had to say. Maybe she would even listen. But she wouldn't forgive him for what he did.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. She looked up, brown eyes honing in on green behind round glasses. "How do I make this better?"

"Find a time turner," she suggested. "Go back in time to last June when you decided that having Draco Malfoy's baby made me the enemy."

Leaning forward, Harry rested his elbows on his thighs. "You weren't...you're not the enemy, Hermione," he said. "After the war, after losing so many people - my parents, Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore, Fred - I couldn't stand to think of anything else changing. I wanted peace, just once even if it was only for a minute. Ginny and I were supposed to be together. You and Ron were supposed to be together. And then you told us you were pregnant, and I felt betrayed. I felt vindicated in being mad at you because it was Malfoy, and then Ginny told us what really happened, which only further proved that I was right in my anger."

Hermione leaned back against the seat back and clutched the throw pillow now in her lap. "What changed?" she wondered. "How does one go from disparaging me in the paper and yelling at me in restaurants to coming to my home, asking to make up?"

Pulling off his glasses, Harry rubbed his tired eyes. "Malfoy happened," he replied. "He showed up at Grimmauld Place. How he did it, I'm not sure."

"Narcissa is a Black. She would be able to find the house," she interjected.

Nodding, he continued, "For two days straight, he waited. Sitting on the stoop, pounding on the front door, threatening to follow me everywhere I went until I agreed to talk to him. And yesterday I did."

The pillow was tossed aside and she stood. Harry's eyes followed her as she walked away, but not towards the door. Rather, she stood by the fireplace, watching the flames lick the logs. "What did he say?" she asked.

"Well, he told me what happened here that night we were captured," Harry said. "He figured out how to modify his memories so she would think he actually hurt you. You lied to us to protect him because you honestly believed he didn't do anything wrong."

"He didn't," she said softly.

Harry rose and joined her by the fire. "Why didn't you tell us then?" he asked. "You could have told us what really happened."

Hermione shook her head and noticed for the first time that she had tears in her eyes. "I was afraid you would have used it against him," she said. "At the trial. I didn't want something held against him that he had no control over."

"I think I understand," Harry replied. "Does this mean we're okay now? Or at least something close to it?"

Again, she shook her head. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she walked away from the fireplace. It wasn't until she reached the double doors that she turned around. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Harry," she said. "But what you did - turning the Weasleys against me, saying I should have aborted my daughter, the horrible things you've said about the Malfoys - I can't forgive that. Not yet anyhow."

When she left the parlor, Pansy was waiting for her. She said nothing, but embraced her friend with no need for an explanation. The parlor door closed and footsteps echoed off the marble floor of the foyer as Harry left Malfoy Manor. It wasn't until they heard the front door close that Hermione pulled away. "Do you want to talk about it?" Pansy asked, keeping her hand on her friend's shoulder for support.

"Not really," she replied tiredly. "I'm just going to check on Naya."

"Don't be mad at Draco," Pansy pleaded just as Hermione's foot touched the first step. She stopped and turned back to her friend. "He was just trying to help. I know he didn't mean to upset you."

"I know," Hermione said, a small smile curling her lips. She continued up the stairs and entered her room. Draco laid across the bed beside Naya as she excitedly waved a small stuffed bear. "Hey," she greeted him, shutting and leaning against the door.

Draco looked up warily, wondering where she had stashed her wand. "Would it be dangerous to ask how it went?" he inquired. "And please keep in mind that our daughter, she who you love most in this world, is right beside me, and you wouldn't want any harm to come to her."

Smiling, Hermione moved away from the door and placed her wand on the nightstand. She took a seat near Naya's head and gently smoothed down her hair. "Thank you," she said finally, turning her attention to her fiance.

"Is he still breathing?" Draco asked. "All limbs are still attached? No bloodshed?"

"Nothing like that," she replied with a laugh. "We just talked. I think it'll be a while before we can be friends again though."

Draco sat up and kissed her cheek. "Maybe someday," he said, getting off the bed.

Sure, Hermione thought, maybe someday.


	27. Chapter 27

I think I might be starting to wind down with this story. I'm working on the next chapter now, and after that might be the epilogue. There could possibly be another chapter between them, because you know my love of even numbers. We'll see.

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><p>Chapter 27<br>From the hall, Hermione watched as the grand drawing room was set for the reception. The ceremony was to take place in the gardens in only a few hours. Dozens of round tables were set with cream-colored linens, followed by fine silver and the Malfoy family's best china. Violets, yellow tulips, and red roses were arranged in the center of each table. It was simple, as Hermione had wanted, but with all the touches of elegance that Narcissa Malfoy could create.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

Hermione turned to find Draco on the staircase behind her. "Isn't it bad luck to see the bride the day of the wedding?" she inquired, though she did nothing to keep him from looking.

Draco descended the stairs and moved to her side. Arms around her waist, he looked over her shoulder as the set up was almost completed. "Nervous?" he asked, his lips lingering by her ear. She shook her head. "Not even a little scared? You're about to become a Malfoy. We'll have to buy you pearls and teach you to look down your nose at those we deem beneath us."

"And here I thought marriage meant I could stop shaving my legs and gain a ton of weight," she remarked.

He traced a trail of kisses along her neck. "You'll still be beautiful," he murmured.

Sighing, she leaned back against his chest. "Are you nervous?" she wondered. "Your mum asked me a few days ago if I was only marrying you because I thought I was out of options. You didn't propose because you thought you had to, right?"

"I love you, Hermione," he stated, holding her closer. "I asked you to marry me because I love you. There was no sense of obligation when I asked you to marry me. Honestly, I was only afraid that you would say no."

She turned in his arms and cupped his face in her hands. "It never even occurred to me to say no," she stated. "I want to be with you, Draco. Only you."

"Forever," he asked, his smile growing as he kissed her.

"And ever and ever," she replied, receiving another kiss.

"Enough of that!" Narcissa barked from the second floor as she glared at the soon to be married couple below. She raced down the stairs, all the while keeping her composure and elegance as she did so. Inserting herself between them, she glared at Draco. "Upstairs now. You should know better, Draco. Honestly, acting this way only hours before your wedding. You'd think the two of you would never see one another again."

A roll of his eyes was the only response Draco gave as he turned and ascended the stairs. Whirling around, Narcissa held Hermione by the arms and smiled. "Time to get you all ready for the big day," she said brightly. She led Hermione to the stairs, talking as they climbed to the second floor. "Now, Pansy's just arrived, and she's brought the Sleekeazy with her. Your hair seems much calmer now though. Perhaps Draco exaggerated all those years. I'm thinking an updo, something sleek and stylish, but still simple and manageable."

The preparation process sped by like a whirlwind. Reprieve came in the form of a five month old Naya who often demanded her mother's attention. The fifth time Narcissa had to stop work on Hermione's hair, Lucius was called in to take Naya to Draco's room. The pouts and painful grimaces were ignored until, at last, her hair and makeup were completed. With a relieved sigh, she got to her feet to begin dressing.

"Nervous?" Pansy asked through the closed bathroom door, already dressed in a simple, coral-colored, floor length dress. "I get nervous whenever I get my hair trimmed. I can't imagine keeping it cool an hour before my wedding. I'll probably be such a bundle of nerves if I ever get married. Couldn't you just imagine me tripping over my own feet or saying the vows wrong or knocking over that tower they make with the champagne glasses? Maybe I should elope. That'll cut down on most of the time I spend with my stomach in knots.

Hermione emerged from the bathroom in simple, white lingerie. "I'm really not," she replied as Pansy helped her into her dress. "I'm more nervous about tripping on the hem and pulling Lucius down with me. Or walking too close to a candle and my flowers or the veil catch fire. I'm a bit concerned that Narcissa will have her hands full with Naya during the ceremony. But the marrying Draco part of it all? That's a no-brainer."

With the final button in place, Pansy carefully arranged the veil and handed Hermione her bouquet. "You look like a princess," Pansy said softly, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. Over her shoulder, she gazed lovingly at the bride. Hermione had chosen a simple, A-line, white dress with cap sleeves and beading along the bottom hem. The veil was a single sheath of tulle, held in place by a diamond-encrusted comb given to her by Narcissa, which had been worn by every Malfoy bride since the Renaissance Era. "You have everything, right? Some old, new, borrowed, and blue?" Pansy asked.

"Well, my ring is blue, the dress is new, the comb is old," Hermione replied, checking each item off on her fingers. "Borrowed, though. I haven't got anything borrowed."

Stepping away, Pansy grabbed her purse and rummaged through it. Finally, with a triumphant exclamation, she found what she was looking for. "I borrowed this from my mum sometime back around fourth year," she explained as she secured a diamond bracelet around Hermione's wrist. "Well, it might be appropriate to say that I stole it from her after she said I couldn't borrow it. But you need something borrowed, and I'm lending you this. Plus, it works perfectly with your dress."

Narcissa knocked and poked her head into the room. "Whenever you're ready, sweetheart," she said. With a nod of her head, Hermione, followed by Pansy, left the room. Lucius waited at the bottom of the stairs and crooked an elbow, one Hermione graciously accepted when she reached the foyer.

"You look lovely," he said as he led her to the garden. "I don't wish to alarm you, but Naya has already made a bit of a mess of Draco's robes."

"He cleaned them, I hope," she replied, laughing at the thought of baby spit up on Draco's formal robes.

He assured her the groom was clean. The bridal march began just as Lucius adjusted her veil. "Ready to become a Malfoy?" he asked, casting a loving smile on the girl who had become like a daughter to him. Her smile grew as she nodded her head, and together they made their way down the aisle.

"Why is Draco holding the baby?" she wondered, whispering only loud enough for Lucius to hear.

A rare look of chagrin crossed the older man's face. "He seemed to be the only who would could stop the crying," he replied. They reached the Minister and Draco, and Lucius took a quiet Naya from his son's arms. After kissing Hermione's cheek, he took his spot beside Narcissa.

When everyone was settled and in their proper place, the Minister began, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."


	28. Chapter 28

Today I started work on the epilogue! And that's really all I have to say today. Perhaps tomorrow I'll be back to my usual, funny, loquacious (yes, I learned that word from Hermione. Don't judge me!) self.

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><p>Chapter 28<br>"Potter and Weasley are here," Draco said as they slipped out of the grand hall in the middle of the reception. "Did you know they were coming?"

Hermione peaked in on the merriment. "Not a clue," she replied. "Even the latest guest list didn't include their names. I wonder if Harry came in hopes of repairing our friendship."

"Do you think you'll ever forgive him?" Draco wondered.

"Do you think he really deserves it?" Hermione countered.

"Doesn't everyone?" he posited.

Sighing, she wrapped her arms around her husband's waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I know you did," she replied. "The things you were taught and the things you were forced to do, none of it was your choosing. But Harry...he chose to hate me. He chose to say awful things about me, and not just to my face. He did it knowing he was hurting me. I can't just forgive and forget, not this time."

"I understand," he said softly, his lips grazing her forehead. He held her close, swaying softly as a slow song played in the ballroom. They danced by themselves, away from the guests and their prying eyes.

It was a peaceful moment until Hermione spoke. "They haven't even said anything to me."

Sighing, Draco stopped moving. "You could talk to them," he suggested. "You know, it's quite possible they're afraid that you're armed. Where you hid your wand though might not be something I want them wondering. You are a married woman now, after all."

"I don't want to fight with them during our wedding reception," Hermine replied. "How much longer do you think your mother is going to make us stay down here?"

Draco waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Something you're keen to get to, Mrs. Malfoy?" he inquired as their lips met.

Hermione wound her free arm around his neck and held Draco close. "Yes," she whispered in his ear, hoping to sound seductive. "These pins are driving me batty and I can no longer stand in these heels."

Letting her go, he carefully began to remove the pins that held her chocolaty curls in place. With each one he pulled out, another ringlet bounced down to meet her shoulder. "Pansy will have my head for ruining this," he warned, but continued to ease her aching scalp anyway. When he finished, he led her to the stair case and sat down. Hermione sat beside him and he took one foot in hand to remove the shoe. As he began to massage her foot, Hermione pulled off the other and tossed it away.

"Keep that up and I swear to not let her anywhere near you," she replied, placing her head against the wall as her eyes closed. "We should probably go back in soon. Someone is bound to notice the bride and groom missing."

Draco let go of one foot and took the other in his hands. "How about I give you your wedding gift first?" he offered, pressing his thumbs into the arch of her foot.

"And I thought Harry was my present," she retorted sardonically.

He put her foot down despite her moan of protest. Getting to his feet, he extended his hand to help her up. He glanced back toward the double doors, and deciding they were free to sneak off a while longer, led her back out to the gardens. They strolled through rows of trees and shrubs and rose bushes until finally they reached a small home at the back of the Malfoy property.

"It's the guest house," Draco explained. "It's been here for decades, and was hardly ever used. I had forgotten all about it until my father mentioned it the other day. I thought, since my previous attempt at a gift got all botched up, this could make up for it."

She stared at the small, one-story, white stoned cottage with planters boxes in the front windows and a small porch big enough for a swing. Beside her, Draco continued to talk nervously, but she didn't hear him. "It's perfect," she declared, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to calm him.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "I didn't know how long you wanted to live at the Manor, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be too far from my family. It seemed like a good middle."

"It's wonderful," she replied. "Can we move in soon?"

"I was thinking tomorrow, especially now that I know you like it," he said.

Standing on the balls of her feet, Hermione pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek. "Have I mentioned yet that it's perfect?" she asked. Draco nodded slightly as her lips moved to his. "Do we have to go back?" Her voice held the smallest hint of a whine as her bottom lip pouted.

Holding her close, Draco kissed her once more. "Mum's bound to notice that we've sneaked off by now," he replied. "Besides, it would be nice to check on the baby."

Hand in hand, they walked back to the manor to rejoin the reception. Few had noticed their absence, but one who did was Harry Potter. He smiled awkwardly as he shuffled his feet as if unsure whether or not to approach the couple. Finally, he screwed up his courage and neared. "You look beautiful, Hermione," he said, nervously stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "I really appreciate you inviting me."

"Narcissa sent your invitation," she stated impassively as she watched a server walk by with a tray of champagne. Draco, who still held her hand, gave it a squeeze and glared when she faced him. Remembering her manners, she continued, "But I'm glad you could come."

If he noticed how forced her words sounded, Harry didn't comment on it. "Look, Mione, I really am sorry for what happened," he said contritely.

A nod was all he received as Ron, red faced from imbibing one firewhiskey too many, joined them. Handing his drink to Harry, he wrapped Hermione in a bear hug that nearly knocked her off her feet. "I've missed you," he murmured in her ear, his words slurring.

Hermione uncomfortably patted his back and looked to Draco for help. "I'm going to find out who has Naya," he declared, chuckling at her plight as he walked away.

"Who's Naya?" Ron asked Harry.

"My daughter," Hermione replied, glaring angrily at Harry.

"Why's she staring at you like that, mate?" Ron wondered, again addressing Harry.

"Because I said some pretty awful things to her, things I never should have said to my best friend," Harry replied. "I don't think I really deserve her forgiveness."

"Probably right about that one, Harry," Ron mumbled. He looked over Hermione's head. "That must be her."

Hermione turned to see Draco approach with Naya asleep in his arms. "My poor mother's arms had fallen asleep from holding her so long," he commented when he rejoined the small group. "I think she was afraid she's wake her if she moved. Want to sneak out again and put her to bed?"

She nodded and turned back to Harry and Ron. "It really was nice that you came," she told them, sincerity evident in her voice. "And, Harry, give it time."

Turning back to her family, she rested a hand on Draco's back and they left with Naya. Harry smiled fondly. "He really loves her," he commented. "I thought for sure that he would never come back. But they look really happy together."

"We lost a lot of time with her," Ron added, sobering as he watched the woman he once loved walk away. "I made a lot of empty promises in hopes that she would come back to us, but she's really stuck by the Malfoys."

"We'll make it right with her," Harry promised.


	29. Epilogue

Here it is - the end. Thank you sooooo much to everyone who's stuck with me through 29 chapters. It means the world to me that you liked the story!

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><p>Epilogue<br>Naya sat before the large tree that filled the manor's foyer. Above her, fairy lights twinkled merrily and around her were a mountain of perfectly wrapped presents. So engrossed in the beautiful decorations was she that Naya hadn't realized she was no longer alone. Beside her on the marble floor sat Lucius, smiling at his oblivious granddaughter. It wasn't until she turned her head to study the gifts to her left that she jumped in surprise.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Lucius apologized.

Smiling brightly, Naya climbed into his lap. "I wasn't scared, Papa," she replied, jutting out her chin in a way reminiscent of her mother. "I'm brave like Mummy."

"Yes, your mummy is quite brave," he agreed. "Probably the bravest person I've been privileged to know. Now, the question is, brave granddaughter of mine, do you think you are courageous enough to sneak a few Christmas cookies past Mum Mum?"

"That's stealing, Papa," the little girl warned. "Daddy got mad when he caught me taking the cookies Mummy baked."

"We'll have to be a bit stealthier then," Lucius replied, smiling deviously as he got to his feet with the little girl still in his arms. Before they could make their escape to the kitchens, the front door opened. Draco entered with a pregnant Hermione in tow.

"It's getting awfully cold out," Hermione commented as she removed a thick cloak from her shoulders.

"I think we interrupted something nefarious here," Draco replied, hanging his wife's cloak of the banister.

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked to Naya. "Were we doing anything nefarious?" he asked. "We were just admiring the decorations."

"I don't know what that means, Papa," Naya whispered as she fingered his long, white-blond hair.

Draco took her from her grandfather's arms. "It means you were going to do something you weren't supposed to do," he explained. "And with your Papa as a partner in crime, no less."

"Come now, Draco. One little treat won't spoil her supper," Lucius remarked.

"You're 'one little treat' usually turns into five or six," Hermione retorted with a laugh. "However, one would be fine, and I'm accompanying you to make sure it's only one."

"I have to talk to Mum for a moment," Draco murmured so only his wife would hear. "I'll join you in a few moments."

While his family left for the kitchen, Draco took the stairs to the second floor. There he found his mother in the library wrapping the girls' Christmas presents. "I don't know why I always do this in here," she said with a laugh. "Poor Naya was quite upset yesterday when I told her the library was off limits. It never seemed to bother you as a child though."

"I take no credit for my daughter's intelligence," he replied self deprecatingly. Narcissa frowned, not appreciating her son's attempt at humor. "So, um, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"About this mysterious Christmas present you're looking to give your wife?" Narcissa guessed, setting aside the scissors and tape. "She's been writing her parents for years and not gotten any response. What makes you think you'll fare better with them?"

Sighing, he sat down in the nearest chair and ran his hands over his face. "I don't know that I will," he admitted. "With the baby coming though, she's expressed her disappointment that they've missed out on almost four years of Naya's life. She doesn't want it to be the same way with Ariella. I've already sworn to her that I won't ever leave again, and I hate the thought of being away from her at a time like this. I can't ask Blaise to go talk to them with Pansy due any day."

She stepped away from the wrapping table and bent down before her son. "I raised a good man, didn't I," she mused. "I'll go. Perhaps a grandmother's perspective will nudge them in the right direction."

"Thank you, Mum," he murmured, helping her to her feet before hugging her.

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><p>That night as Draco and Hermione prepared themselves for bed, Naya entered their room. "Mum Mum's going somewhere," she told them anxiously. Her left thumb went to her mouth while her right hand clutched a worn pink blanket.<p>

With furrowed brows, Hermione turned to Draco to offer some kind of explanation. He merely shrugged and picked up their daughter before putting her down on their bed. Then he retreated to the bathroom with Hermione on his heels. "She said she was doing a little last minute shopping," he told her when he turned to find her in the doorway with crossed arms and raised eyebrows.

"At 11:30 at night?" she retorted. "Is something going on? Is she thinking about leaving Lucius? Do you think us being here and relying on them so much is-"

"Stop," he said, holding her by the elbows. "Believe me, if we were a burden in any way, we'd know about it. They love you, they love Naya, they love Ariella who isn't even here yet. They will tie you to the banister if you even think about leaving. That's how much they want us here. Now, she really is doing a bit of last minute Christmas shopping, but she's leaving the country to do it. Don't get yourself into a panic over this."

Arms uncrossed and wound around his waist. "You're right," she replied with a small laugh.

"Words I've never heard pass your lips before," he joked as he pressed a kiss to her lips. "Should we let her sleep in our bed tonight?"

"We'll need a bigger bed once Ariella is born," Hermione commented, turning to watch their first born fall asleep. "She's perfect, isn't she?"

"She did bite me yesterday morning when I tried to get her out of bed," he remarked though he smiled affectionately. "I'd say she got all of her best qualities from you. Smart and sweet and brave. She even inherited your hair."

"You know you two have more in common than just similar eye color," Hermione replied. "You're smart too, and loving. She's fiercely protective, like you. She has your sense of humor too. More than a few of her best qualities came from her father."

His hand lightly traced the swell of her stomach. "I think this one will be perfect too," he decided as he gazed fondly upon his first born.

* * *

><p>Christmas was a day away, and Narcissa had yet to return. Pansy and Blaise had arrived early to Christmas Eve dinner in order to celebrate Naya's fourth birthday. Hermione waited by the front door, peering through the glass as she observed the front walk. Draco had been mum on the details concerning her absence, and Lucius refused to let on that he knew her reasons for leaving beyond "Christmas shopping."<p>

"Mummy, may we have birthday cake now?" Naya asked, tugging on the bottom hem of Hermione's sweater. "Titi says her tummy is hurting, and Unca Blaise said they might have the baby soon. Will it have my birthday?"

"Maybe," Hermione replied, turning away from the door to join everyone in the dining room. Naya returned to Lucius to sit on his lap at the head of the table while Draco brought out a chocolate cake decorated with lavender colored frosting. "Feeling alright?" she whispered to Pansy, who was seated beside her.

"Fine, fine," Pansy replied dismissively. "I've had a couple of contractions, nothing serious. Besides, he's not due for another week."

"Right, and Naya came three weeks early," Hermione remarked as Draco lit four pink candles.

Before they finished singing "Happy Birthday" the front door opened and Narcissa called for Draco. He waited for Naya to blow out the candles before excusing himself. Hermione craned her head to get a glimpse of her husband and mother-in-law, but couldn't get a clear view from where she sat. "I wonder what's going on," she murmured, ignoring the slice of cake that Blaise had set before her.

"Maybe Narcissa's mystery gift is for you," Pansy suggested.

"Someone's with Mum Mum, Mama," Naya interjected around a mouthful of cake. "Two someones. Do you think it's Mr. Harry or Mr. Ron, Mama?"

Brow furrowed, Hermione placed her napkin on the table and rose from her chair. "No, sweetie, I don't think it is," she replied. Despite their repaired friendship, Harry and Ron infrequently visited Malfoy Manor. The house often brought back painful memories of the war, and neither were comfortable around Lucius and Narcissa.

Entering the foyer, Hermione stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. With tears in her eyes, her mother, Helen, approached her and touched her stomach tentatively. But Hermione stepped back and the hands fell away. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Despite her determination to remain calm, she could feel the prickle of tears in her eyes. "I've written so many letters to you, _begging_ for your forgiveness and hoping that just once you'd reply. I haven't heard a word from either of you since Draco found you four years ago. So, I'll ask again - why are you here?"

Draco stepped around the small assembled group and stood by his wife's side. "I asked them to come," he told her, turning so his body would block her view of the parents by whom she felt abandoned. "They didn't respond to me either. I don't know what my mother said or how she did it, but she got them here. Just hear them out."

"Narcissa told us about Naya for hours, and she showed us pictures," Helen told her as they were led to the parlor. "You were a beautiful bride. I wish we had been there."

Hermione glared at the two people sitting across from her. "Narcissa said she sent you an invitation," she replied bitingly. "I wrote to you about it. There were pictures included with that letter. Did you see all the photos _I_ sent of Naya? Or did all of my letters just happen to get lost en route?"

Robert Granger cleared his throat and leaned forward. "We received them. All of them," he confirmed. "We were just so...angry about what you'd done."

"I don't think we ever stopped to think about what you were going through," Helen added remorsefully as she wiped her eyes. "When we first met Draco, he told us about the war. He told us what an important role you played in saving your world. It's just...it's hard as a parent to know your child is fighting in a war and there's nothing you can do to protect them. Narcissa told me she felt the same way, and I'm sure if it were your child, you would agree."

"And the three and a half years between the war and now?" she wondered. "I _am_ sorry for altering your memories. I wish I had come up with a better plan, but it was the best I could think of. Protecting the two of you was all I cared about."

As Draco and Narcissa left to give them their privacy, Helen moved into Draco's vacated seat beside Hermione. "I understand that now," she replied, wiping away her daughter's tears. "You've always been a brilliant, selfless woman. When we met Draco, and he explained to us what happened, he told us you would never use your magic against anyone if you didn't think it was absolutely necessary. You did what you thought was right because you knew we couldn't defend ourselves against someone else's magic."

"Did, um, did he tell you that I was pregnant?" Hermione asked. Robert nodded his head in confirmation. "And he told you what happened? I mean, how it happened."

"He told us you would both be killed, and it was the only way to ensure you survived," Helen told her. "He told us he would take care of you and the baby though. He made sure we knew you were alright, and that you were with people who could help you and would love your daughter. I must admit I was shocked to find out you weren't with the Weasleys."

"Draco told us about that too," her father added.

"Things are fine with them again," Hermione told them. "Draco fixed that one too. Do you want to meet her? Naya, I mean. She's heard about you over the years, and I know she would be excited to meet her grandparents."

Receiving a nod from her mother then her father, Hermione left the parlor for the dining room. "Got her all ready for you," Blaise greeted her. "I took pictures. She was covered in purple frosting. Oh, and she dropped cake in Lucius's lap when I picked her up. Pans got those pictures."

"Was he mad?" Hermione wondered, thrilled by the mental image of Lucius Malfoy wearing purple and chocolate cake.

Naya took her hand when Blaise put her down. "He laughed, Mummy!" she replied, smiling brightly. "Were you crying, Mama?"

"A bit, but they're good tears," she replied. "There's some people I want you to meet. Will you come with me to the parlor? Blaise, if Draco asks..."

He nodded and kissed her cheek before returning to his wife. Taking a deep breath, Hermione led Naya back to the front parlor and introduced her to her parents. "Are they here for my birthday?" Naya wondered. "We already had the cake."

Helen knelt down in front of the little girl. "I think we're more of a Christmas gift for your mum," she replied.

Draco joined them then, and stood behind his wife. Naya looked from her new grandmother to her parents. "Did we save Gamma and Gampa any cake?"she asked, gray eyes filled with worry. Without waiting for a reply, she took hold of Helen's hand and led her from the parlor. Robert followed, and Hermione and Draco were left alone.

"Mad at me?" he asked. Shaking her head, Hermione turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Is everything alright between them and you?"

"I think it will be," she replied optimistically. "Ya know, when I was 11, if someone had told me this is how my life would have turned out - married to my childhood enemy, estranged from my parents for five years, a mother of two before the age of 23 - I would have thought they were crazy."

"And now?" he wondered.

"I can't imagine my life any other way."

The End.


End file.
